Gimme Shelter
by marahh
Summary: Laura Norwood had to abandon all she knew and loved to protect those closest to her. As she struggles to deal with her new life as a hunter, her mysterious fate will be intertwined with the Winchesters as they try to stop Lilith and the apocalypse. Can they change their fates, or will her darkest nightmares come true?
1. Chapter 1

**Obsessed with Supernatural, and decided to make my first fanfic in this universe, so bear with me. First two chapters are a bit long, but needed to set up my OC's backstory a bit. It takes place after Season 3 so Seasons 4 and onward will change slightly with my OC being introduced. Please give me some feedback! **

**Here goes nothing!**

**Chapter One:**

A tall, slender brunette female was walking down a sunlit street on a bright spring day. She waved to a couple of familiar faces and smiled to herself behind her mirrored aviators. Her iPod was blaring, playing Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" as her background music for her walk to class. Her leather bag was growing heavy with her massive business textbooks and MacBook, so she adjusted it as she turned the corner and began to cut through the University's Green. The paths were not too crowded, for students probably had decided to skip class due to the clear blue skies, warm breeze, and lovely scent of flowers in the air. The entire Green has decorated with lush grass, massive flowering trees, and a stunning fountain filled with crystal clear water. There was only one other person in the vicinity, but he appeared to be all the way on the far side of the Green, and the young woman thought to herself how beautiful her college was. She was lost in pleasant, happy thoughts, when her music suddenly cut out. Slightly confused, she pulled the music player from the back pocket of her dark blue skinny jeans and looked for a possible cause. The screen was black and refused to turn back on. Sighing in exasperation, the athletically built brunette stopped walking to put her iPod away. As she stuffed the useless piece of technology into the big, black leather bag, the wind suddenly picked up, sending her long, wavy hair every-which-way.

The woman closed the bag, and tucked her now disheveled hair behind her ear with a delicate hand, but the wind was persistent. She looked up at the sky, which was now black and stormy. Thoroughly unnerved by the drastic change in weather, she took her sunglasses off, and her bright, blue-green eyes grew wide as her peaceful surroundings suddenly disintegrated into a horrific sight. The stone fountain had dried up and appeared broken and ancient; the grass was replaced with dried, cracked earth, and the stone pathway was pure dust. The female's jaw dropped as she gazed around at each dead, charred tree and the barely standing buildings, still smoking from a seemingly recent fire. Before she could even react to the terrifying view before her, she heard thousands of horse, barely audible whispers as the wind began to pick up even more. The voices sounded as if they were everywhere and surrounding her and the young woman spun around wildly to see if anyone was around. The gusts of wind were growing violent, and a bolt of lightning lit the now pitch black sky. She leapt back, thoroughly startled and began to run for cover from the impending storm.

She ducked into the decrepit, dilapidated remains of the closest building, but the voices not only followed her, but grew louder and louder. They roared just as loud as the dangerous wind, and lightning lit the darkened sky yet again. The woman looked around with a frightened expression, as she noticed the man who was once way in the distance, standing silently and watching her from a dark corner of the building.

"He-hello?" she stammered.

The man did not seem to respond, though the voices and wind were so loud at this point, the brunette could not be certain; as she was about to speak louder, the man suddenly began to advance toward her with an threatening speed.

Feeling as if he had the intent to harm her, the young woman turned and ran into the fully blown storm without a second glance behind her. Fleeing from the building, she barely took any notice to the now ice-cold rain pelting her face. As she sprinted down the massive Green, she tried to call for help, but the whispers and wind were muffling her terrified shrieks. She glanced behind herself quickly, and could not see the man, for her eyesight was being impeded by the thick, constant raindrops hitting her face. Suddenly, however, she realized that she was not running in the rain at all, but rather, an unfamiliar, liquid substance. She also noticed that it's consistency was much thicker than that of water, so she began to slow down her pace, due to both fatigue and utter confusion. Holding her hand out, the young woman grimaced at the small, blood-like puddle forming in her palm. The voices were practically shouting now, and another bolt of lightning lit the sky and illuminated the fact that she was now surrounded by at least fifty shadowy figures.

She looked around wildly for anywhere to escape to, but they all inched forward ever so slowly.

"What do you want?" she screamed, though her voice was still barely audible.

"Please!" she cried out, wiping wet hair out of her now stained face from the bloody-rain.

As the shadowy figures moved closer and closer to her, the voices were slowly becoming clearer.

"The righteous man has fallen," they all said as another lightning bolt illuminated the frightening scene. "The first seal is broken."

The brunette spun around helplessly, and began to weep.

"The end is near. He will rise."

She knew this was it, that this was the end. The shadowy figures were now on top of her, as her knees buckled and she fell hard onto the blood-soaked earth.

"He will kill them. He will kill them all!" the voices screamed as the dozens of hands reached down and grabbed at the cowering, crying young woman.

"No!" she cried, covering her face and violently shaking off the iron grip of the hands she felt closing around her.

"No! No!" she screamed out, eyes tightly shut and tears streaming down her face.

She felt herself being shaken powerfully, and tried to break free of the strong hands squeezing her shoulders.

"No!" she whimpered one last time, when a faint voice caused her to open her terrified, tear-filled eyes.

"Laura! Wake up!" the voice repeated itself forcefully.

The young brunette's eyes began to refocus, and she saw a young, familiar and very worried face staring down at her.

Laura sat up from her hotel bed in a cold sweat, and blinked a few times as the fourteen year old girl stared at her with an anxious expression. Running her hand through her matted hair and sighing, she gazed into the teenager's dark brown eyes.

"How long have I been out?" Laura asked, glancing at the window.

The teenager with a ponytail of extremely thick, curly black hair got up and pulled back the curtains and responded: "I don't know, you tell me?"

She gazed down at the young adult woman with a cocked eyebrow, thoroughly amused as the harsh sunlight blinded her groggy companion.

"Christ, Krissy," Laura groaned, shielding her burning retinas from the unexpectedly bright light. "Don't be so gentle about it…"

The teenager chuckled to herself and sat back down at the foot of the queen bed. She watched on as Laura stretched and pulled the covers off of her long, toned legs. She got out of the bed and walked over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of beer.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Krissy laughed incredulously as the woman twisted off the bottle cap and threw it onto the table.

"It's five o'clock somewhere," she muttered back, glancing at the clock which read '9:56 am' and sipping on her beer. She then pulled her laptop out of a duffel bag and asked: "Where's your dad?"

"Out," Krissy responded casually, getting up and making her way over to the table where Laura was now sitting.

"Any idea when he'll be back?" Laura asked, beginning to research something on the computer.

"Nope," the teen responded, reading over the brunette's shoulder.

Laura felt Krissy infringing her personal space and glanced sideways at her with a defensive expression.

"Can I help you?" Laura grumbled, sipping on her beer some more.

"How's the research on those mysterious voices you've been hearing?" she inquired, craning her neck to look at the computer screen.

Laura minimized the Internet browser (which had an image of Samhain on it) and looked the teen square in the face.

"Your dad and I both agreed not to get you involved in this," Laura sighed, as if they've had this conversation before.

"Come on! He doesn't have to know," the teenager persisted.

"No way," Laura shook her head firmly.

Krissy's eyes grew stormy as she raised her voice in frustration: "If it's that dangerous than bringing my dad into _is_ involving me!"

Laura pinched the bridge of her nose and thought for a second or two before responding. She knew that the girl was very intelligent and way more experienced in the world of hunting than she was, but nevertheless, she was fourteen years old and deserved to have her childhood preserved for as long as possible.

"I know. Trust me, I get its not fair to you, but your dad promised to help me way before I found out how dark this crap was gonna get…" Laura began, but Krissy cut her off angrily.

"And then you just skipped out on us," her brown eyes appeared even darker than usual.

"I didn't want to put you both in anymore danger than you all ready are," Laura responded honestly.

"Then why did you come back? After three months of no talking, you just pop up like nothing ever happened? What the Hell is that?" she inquired, angrily shaking her head.

Laura, Krissy, and her dad, Lee, had grown close over the first two months of Laura's new life. They helped her learn all she could about hunting and make sense of her psychic abilities. They even helped her get a car, weapons, fake IDs, and even had her meet up with a mutual psychic friend, Pamela, to assist her in honing her abilities.

"I came back because you and your dad were in danger," Laura said matter-of-factly.

"We're hunters. We're always in danger… and in case you forgot, we've saved your ass more than the other way around, so next time you come to our rescue… don't," Krissy spat darkly.

"Krissy!" scolded a male's voice from the door of the hotel room.

Both Laura and Krissy's head snapped towards the entrance to the room. Standing with a very tired, yet annoyed expression, was Lee Chambers.

"Laura saved both of our lives last night. Show her some gratitude," he sternly said as he walked over to the table and took Laura's beer and finished its contents.

"What did your friend say?" Laura inquired, looking up at the exhausted man.

"You were right. It was the Rising of the Witnesses. He did the spell though, so no one should be coming back," Lee sighed, sitting down.

"Good. Didn't know how much longer I'd be able to keep us all hidden," Laura responded, getting up and blowing out a strange candle that was lit in the center of a salt and dirt circle. She took an amulet that was next to the candle and put it back on around her slender neck.

"Pamela did good teaching you how to use Wicca to control and amplify your abilities," he nodded curtly in approval.

Laura raised her eyebrows a bit, putting the amulet under her large white t-shirt.

"Yeah, well it's no good when she's having night terrors without that thing," Krissy remarked, still clearly annoyed at the young woman.

Laura glared at the teenager, for she knew Lee would be worried.

"I thought you said the dreams stopped," he now turned his parental gaze at the brunette.

"They did…" Laura tried to sound convincing, though she was never very good at lying to either of the Chambers.

"Only cause you don't sleep anymore," Krissy muttered, smirking that she was throwing Laura under the proverbial bus.

"I sleep," she shot the surly youngster a look to shut up.

"Is this true?" Lee was not going to buy it.

"Ever since that Winchester guy came back from Hell, everything's just been… harder to handle," Laura looked down at her nails, avoiding his piercing stare.

"Krissy, go pack the car for me," Mr. Chambers commanded, still eyeing Laura closely.

"But dad," she tried to fight him, but when he turned his harsh gaze onto his daughter, she hung her head and grabbed her backpack off the opposite bed.

After they heard the hotel door shut, assuring that they were alone, Lee spoke.

"Have you found out how he was pulled out?"

Laura knew that this whole situation was beyond worrisome, but considering she knew she was going to be a part of it, she was trying her hardest to keep the Chambers in the dark.

"No. Did that guy Bobby say whether or not he knew anything?" she asked.

"No, but I know he's lying. Singer's always been close with the Winchesters. After John died, he's basically their family," he sighed, scratching his head.

"You and Krissy should just let me figure this one out. It's getting any safer," Laura said darkly.

"Still dreaming about us dying cause we've been giving you a hand?" he asked with a bleak grin.

"They went away once I left," Laura responded, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

"And you sure they aren't just normal nightmares from anxiety?" Lee inquired, though he all ready knew the answer.

Laura chuckled a bit with a disheartened expression: "I wish, but I'm positive."

"Well if you change your mind about letting us help you, we're always here," Lee said, rising from his seat and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Laura gazed up at the man who had been her mentor through these tough months. She had to abandon her old life, all that she knew and the ones that she loved, and Lee Chambers and Krissy had become the only friends there for her, in this new dark and dangerous life. She owed them everything, for teaching her, guiding her, getting her the help she needed, and saving her life on numerous occasions. Laura was determined to make sure they were spared from the horrific fate she foresaw for them, and if it meant going it alone, so be it.

"Just let me know if you need me again. Whether or not it's feminine business with Krissy, a simple protection spell, or even help on a hunt," Laura responded with a weak smile.

Lee looked down at the brave young woman before him, and thought about how different she became since he first met her, or even the last couple of months. Laura appeared stronger, more physically fit from training; she looked tired, from lack of sleep and over-exertion from practicing her psychic abilities, and from the looks of the old cuts and bruises, she's been dabbling in a few hunts here and there. He always admired her for leaving home to protect her loved ones. She knew what she was getting herself into and was willing to sacrifice her own life for the greater good, though, she would not risk the lives of anyone else, especially on her behalf. Lee and Krissy grew to care for their new ally, but he was not willing to get his daughter involved in the darkness Laura recently found herself surrounded by.

After long hours of telephone calls and discussions, they both agreed upon helping one another whenever possible, but once the road became too rocky and Krissy's life would be at risk, then that was where they would part ways.

"We will," he said as Laura got up and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for your help again. Those spirits would've killed us both if it wasn't for your protection."

"It's the least I could do. Take care of yourself, Lee," Laura felt her eyes growing hot. They knew this day was coming, but now that it was finally here she knew she wasn't prepared to be alone in this fight to come.

"You too," he said, giving her one last firm squeeze before heading to the door.

Before he walked out, he turned back and said with a weak smile: "She'll get over it, you know? Krissy will forgive you."

Laura smiled back grimly and nodded, and with that Lee Chambers shut the hotel door, leaving Laura utterly and completely alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so the first chapter focused on some of my OC backstory, but more will obviously get revealed as time goes on. Lee and Krissy Chambers are from previous seasons but I decided to include them in Laura's backstory. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. (Just my OC plot). Oh! And this introduces the Winchesters at the end! **

**Enjoy and give feedback! Thanks!**

**Chapter Two:**

A couple of weeks had gone by and Laura's psychic experiences were growing stronger and much more difficult to control. Her nightmares were becoming more vivid, and would often pick up from where she left off if she woke herself up in the middle of it. Not only were her dreams becoming more terrifyingly real, they were leaving her bruised and cut up, and she was recently awakening in a different place than where she fell asleep. If that wasn't worrisome enough, the faint whispers and voices were becoming more constant and sharper, as if whatever was speaking was right behind her.

Laura was also beginning to experience new psychic abilities, which she was definitely not accustomed to. On her last hunt, which was helping a confused spirit haunting an old folks home cross over, she noticed that there was an strange nurse in the building. Though she appeared perfectly normal, Laura had noted that the middle aged, heavy-set worker had began to follow her around and watch her closely. Unsure if her fake police badge wasn't up to par, or if her performance was not convincing enough, Laura decided to play it cool for as long as possible: she just wanted to get the lost spirit to crossover before anyone else was frightened or hurt by it.

The night she completed the séance and successfully guided the ghost to the other side, Laura packed up her things and began to head to her car, but just before she could leave the retirement home, the nurse stopped her. After a few minutes of being questioned, Laura edged her way over to the door and bid the odd woman good-night, but just as she was halfway through the doors, the nurse grabbed her wrist tightly. Laura spun around to demand she be let go, claiming she could have the woman fired for laying hands on an officer of the law, but just as her threat left her lips and she laid eyes upon the nurse, Laura noticed a face underneath the aged and tired human one. It was an awful, disfigured face, as if it were burned and cut up. Its teeth were sharp and animalistic, and it had beast-line horns on its skull; however, the most eerie part of it was that the woman's eyes became jet-black.

Laura felt a sharp, icy cold pain spread up her arm as this entire thing happened, as if thousands of tiny knives were stabbing her. The woman, or whatever she was, just glared at her, with an intense look, as if she were looking deep into the young woman's soul. Laura had never seen something so frightening before, and yanked her arm away in fear. Not sure what she was possibly up against, Laura pretended as if she didn't see anything out of the ordinary and stormed out of the building.

Practically running to her car, shaking in fear, she shut and locked the doors and sped away. Once she was far enough away and felt safe, she immediately called her psychic acquaintance and mentor, Pamela. She explained the entire event, and the snarky biker chick was definitely rattled.

After a long, in-depth conversation, Pamela had concluded that Laura was indeed showing signs of psychic growth and expansion, meaning her powers were not only becoming stronger, but she was developing new ones. Beyond being a naturally gifted and powerful psychic, her new ability was extremely rare, for even Pamela had not heard of anyone being able to see the true face of a demon unless their soul was about to be collected by Hell hounds.

Needless to say, Laura was extremely shaken and confused; not only were her abilities expanding, she was losing any form of control over them. Pamela decided to research and e-mail Laura more Wiccan spells and other natural based magic that could help the young, budding psychic hone and better control her powers; meditation was also a highly recommended practice for Laura to try.

Frightened by watching herself spiral out of control, Laura took everything Pamela said to heart and began meditating everyday after her morning workout and would practice some rituals in the evenings. Although it kept her visions of spirits and demons in check, as well as reduced the severity of her night terrors, nothing was totally stopping those horrible dreams or the incessant voices from driving her mad.

One morning, she was in the middle of her usual meditation when the voices began again. She tried to ignore them, but they became so loud and so shrill that Laura opened her eyes, breaking her concentration. Tired of trying to shut them out, Laura decided to focus her energy on figuring out what was being said. After a moment or two, the whispers became crystal clear, and the young brunette heard a disturbing message: "The next seal is going to break in Christiansburg. Samhain will rise, and the dead will roam free. The brothers must try to stop this."

After hearing this cryptic message, Laura remembered a recent foreboding dream she had been experiencing at least once a week, one which she had been trying to gather information on: the rising of Samhain as one of the locks on Lucifer's cage. She immediately knew she must try to stop it, and after looking up the name Christiansburg, Laura found out where she needed to go.

That was three days ago and was the reason why Laura now found herself in a terrible predicament. For three long days, she drew and concealed dozens of protection sigils across town, in an effort to protect the innocent civilians from becoming the necessary victims of the sacrifice necessary to raise Samhain from Hell. Laura had researched and discovered the ancient dark magic necessary to raise this particular ancient and powerful demon from the pit, and she knew that there needed to be three blood sacrifices before All Hollows Eve. By the time she arrived in town, there was all ready one death of a married man: his wife had found him bloody on the kitchen floor with blades lodged in his mouth and throat, and to the local coroner's dismay, even in his stomach.

Laura then began the arduous task of trying to protect the entire town, encircling it in a blanket of benevolent magic to counter-act the black magic being used by a coven of extremely powerful witches. The psychic was so concentrated on keeping the civilians safe that she was struggling to locate the witches and merely hoped to hold them off until Halloween, that way it would be too late to complete the ritual. The main problem was, however, she was growing weaker and weaker everyday, for the spell required constant concentration and Laura felt herself growing more and more fatigued. She could not sleep, and was so physically worn out she hadn't eaten in two days, so to much of her despair, she found out there was another death. This time it was a local teenage girl who boiled to death while bobbing for apples.

Laura was in the process of nearly ripping her hair out with frustration when she met them.

There the young, attractive brunette sat, hunched over a couple of old books and pages of spells printed from her laptop, trying desperately to figure out why her protection rituals didn't keep the second blood sacrifice safe. She poured over the ancient texts and skimmed the map, which was dotted with marks where each sigil was drawn throughout the town. She rubbed her exhausted, blue-green eyes and took a sip of red wine directly from the bottle. The dimly lit candles scattered around the hotel room casted various black shadows everywhere, and the young psychic was so concentrated on double-checking how she set up the Wiccan altar, with its bowls of water, dirt, herbs, salt, and some locks of her own hair, that she took no notice to the two dark figures watching her.

The Winchesters stood there, hidden in the darkness next to an open window, contemplating when was the best time to attack the mysterious woman. Their guns were drawn as they quietly watched on, all the while exchanging glances with one another over sight they were seeing. After the brunette tied her wavy brown hair into a loose side braid, she grabbed an ancient-looking amulet from around her neck, closed her eyes, and began chanting something in Latin.

Sam and Dean nodded at one another, agreeing that this was their moment to pounce. They had seen this young woman around their hotel since they arrived in town, and right before the high schooler was murdered, Dean noticed her bringing odd occult items into her hotel room. He and Sam had been trying for days to locate the witch responsible for these blood sacrifices, but to no avail. That evening, Castiel and Uriel had threatened to flatten the entire town if the Winchesters could not prevent Samhain from rising, and Dean would be damned (again) if those dicks were going to smite an unsuspecting town.

Oddly enough, the youngest brother was just as unopposed to killing this girl as Dean was, and now with what was unfolding before them, the Winchesters knew that they had to strike. Yes, she was a human being, but she was also a witch and needed to be eliminated.

After they curtly nodded to one another, Dean lunged at the female kneeling on the floor. She yelled out in surprise and struggled to push the muscular hunter off of her as Sam destroyed the alter in one swift kick.

"No!" Laura shrieked, trying to fight off her attacker. "What have you done?"

She felt herself getting heaved up onto a chair by the person behind her, and while she kicked and thrashed, Laura's head snapped back, hitting her assailant directly in the nose. The man grunted in pain, loosening his grip around the girl ever so slightly that she was able to break free and knee him hard in the groin.

Doubled over in pain, Dean groaned. He could barely see due to the head-butt her received to the face, but from what he could make out, the brunette leapt forward for something that was lying on the floor. As his vision cleared, he saw that her target was his gun lying on the floor.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled out in warning, as his brother's head snapped up just in time to hit the weapon out of her hands.

Before he could deliver his second blow, Laura punched him hard across the face. Her heart was pounding and hoped to God that these men weren't the witches… or worse… demons. She had been trying to keep a low profile in town, but somehow her cover must have been blown. In the back of her mind she was kicking herself for being discovered so easily, but at the forefront of her thoughts, she was desperately trying to look for an escape route. She couldn't let Samhain rise and she couldn't let another seal break: everyone she ever loved depended on it; the world depended on it. She kicked him hard in the ribs and heard a crack. He groaned in pain, but before she could continue attacking the man before her, Laura felt a massive pair of arms rapping around her body and tossing her hard into the coffee table, sending splinters of wood everywhere. Then, everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again I do not own anything but my OC. Please read, review, and give some feedback!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three:**

For her size, the clearly athletic brunette put up a good fight. By the time the Winchesters knocked her out, Dean's nose was a bloody mess and probably broken, and Sam's eye was all ready swollen and bruising. Both Winchesters were doubled over, the eldest still trying not to throw up while the youngest gripped his most likely fractured ribs. They were both panting and sweating when an annoyed Dean splashed water on the unconscious woman's face.

Laura's drooping and throbbing head snapped up. She felt groggy, and she assumed she had a concussion. She was a bit confused as to what was going on at first, but when everything came flooding back, Laura glared at the two men standing over her. She knew she was tied too tightly to the chair to be able to break free, but she tried to lunge at them anyway, earning herself a mocking laugh from the shorter of the two.

"You're not going anywhere sweetheart," he grinned at her with an almost cocky tone of voice.

The lights were now on in Laura's cramped little hotel room, so she was able to get a good look at her attackers. The one was very tall, about 6 foot 4 or 5, with long, shiny brown hair and large, almost doe-like brown eyes. The other was shorter, though still over 6 foot. He had stunning green eyes and short brown hair with a face covered in rugged stubble. Under ordinary circumstances, the young psychic would have found each man to be extremely attractive, but at the moment, she simply wanted to kick the shit out of them.

"Don't be too sure about that," Laura responded, lazily looking back at both of the furious men staring down at her.

Sam and Dean knew this witch had to be extremely powerful, and although they appeared calm and collected, they were wondering why she hadn't attacked them back yet. They were nervous.

"You really didn't think we would find you?" Dean continued to deride her. "You were right, Sammy. Pretty, but not so smart."

Laura scowled at them, and began slowly stretching her slender fingers toward her belt, within which she always kept concealed a hunting knife.

"Funny, I could say the same thing about you two," she smirked darkly.

"You're trapped. You really think we feel threatened by you?" the eldest Winchester continued, bending down and getting into her face.

Laura stopped trying to cut the rope, which bound her hands, and looked deep into his eyes. She was frightened and unsure what they were going to do to her, but she figured bluffing as much as possible and distracting them was her only option.

Letting a wicked giggle escape from her throat, Laura smirked at both men, and then responded with a dead serious expression: "You should."

Dean glared into the brunette's stunning blue-green eyes, trying to tell whether or not he should take what she said seriously. After a moment or two, he stood back up and began to circle her while Sam watched on, with his gun ready to fire.

"We've dealt with your kind before. Trust me, threats don't work," Sam said darkly, raising his gun and taking off the safety. "We know you aren't working alone, so where's your partner?"

"I don't have a partner," Laura responded honestly.

"Don't lie to us. We don't have time for your bullshit," Dean spat, circling back around and staring at her.

Laura began slowly cutting the ropes again while she responded.

"I'm not lying, but think what you want. I honestly don't care," she sarcastically smiled at them both.

"We know you couldn't perform those rituals on your own," Sam pressed.

"Shows how much you know then," the psychic continued, cocking her head to the side.

Sam and Dean shifted positions uncomfortably. Those blood sacrifice spells were old world dark magic, and even Bobby said that it would take at least two extremely practiced, old witches to get it done. If this woman was telling the truth about her performing these acts of black magic alone, however, the Winchesters were in well over their heads.

"Where's the girl?" Dean asked aggressively, as Laura continued to try to free herself.

"What girl?"

"Don't play dumb," Sam commanded darkly.

Something about this whole situation wasn't right, Laura thought. Why were these witches so concern about a certain girl. They had one more sacrifice to go and an entire town now unprotected. It didn't make sense.

"Where did Don take her?" Dean dangerously asked, with a look as if he was going to strike her.

Laura glanced around nervously for her duffel bag. She knew she had a gun in there, and though strong, witches were mortal and could be killed. She felt the last strand of the rope break and before anything else could happen, Laura broke free, kicking the gun out of the taller man's hand.

The shorter man lunged at her, but she sliced his forearm with her blade, and then proceeded to kick the assailant's gun under her bed. She made a break for her bag, but was grabbed by the taller man. She thrashed and kicked, but was pinned hard against the wall, breaking the picture frame behind her all ready pounding head.

"Go ahead. Kill me, but you're both still gonna die," she snarled as Sam pushed her into the wall again. Laura winced in pain and continued: "You're just a couple of humans, and Samhain's not gonna spare you, even if you were the ones that raised him."

Sam and Dean exchanged thoroughly puzzled looks, and still not completely convinced, Dean asked: "What?"

"God witches are dumb," Laura sighed, as Sam's grip loosened a bit. "Think you're safe from the demons you worship… literally delusional."

At this point Sam let go of her completely, and backed a step or two away. Still with their guards up, they watched the mysterious young woman rub the back of her head, brushing a few small pieces of glass out of her hair.

"We're not witches," Sam responded slowly, as he and his brother tried to wrap their minds about what was happening.

"Then who the Hell are you?" Laura hissed through her teeth, still eyeing the duffel bag that contained her weapons.

"We could ask you the same thing," Sam said, eyeing the suspicious female closely.

"I'm not the one breaking into people's rooms and attacking them," Laura shot back, eyes darting between both men dangerously.

"We're not the ones using a black magic altar," an unconvinced Dean stated.

Laura laughed incredulously and shook her head. "That was a Wiccan altar numb-nuts… you know, natural magic? Completely different than what those demon worshiping hoe-bags do."

Sam and Dean paused for a moment, with Dean appearing slightly offended by her name-calling and Sam trying to remember what the altar looked like before he destroyed it.

"I'm assuming you to are hunters, so take a look at the rituals if you don't believe me," Laura pointed at the books and pages scattered on the floor with a tone of exasperation.

Tentatively looking at his brother, Sam began picking up a few pages while Dean kept an eye on Laura.

After a moment or two, Sam looked up and stated: "These are the protection sigils we noticed on the edges of town."

With her hands on her hips, Laura had an expression as if saying 'told you so.'

Both brothers gazed at the girl with somewhat dumbfounded expressions.

"Where did you get this?" Sam asked, waving the ancient book he picked up off the floor.

"A friend," she said with an attitude.

"Care to share with the class?" Dean dished an attitude right back.

"Her name's Pamela Barnes. Ring any bells?" Laura inquired, folding her arms.

Dean and Sam Winchester exchanged looks again.

"How do you know her?" Sam asked, as he and his brother became much less defensive.

"As I said," Laura sighed, sensing she was no longer in danger, "she's a friend."

The brunette pushed passed both brothers and examined the damage done to her altar.

Laura was pissed. There were less than an 13-hour window for the ritual to be completed, but by the time she could set everything back up and perform the protection enchantments, it would probably be too late.

Shaking her head in annoyance, she began pacing the room, running a hand anxiously through her hair. The brothers watched on, unsure of what to do or say.

"So you were protecting the people," Sam said slowly, now feeling guilty about attacking an innocent woman.

"Yeah, and now thanks to you two geniuses, I won't be able to put back up the veil in time to prevent the third sacrifice from happening," she gave them an irritated look.

"Bang up job you've been doing though. Two all ready died on your watch," Dean defended themselves.

Laura stopped pacing and glared at the shorter man.

"I came into town after the first vic. Second one… I don't know what happened," her expression softened a bit, still feeling the sting of her recent failure.

"How large of a radius did your spell reach?" Sam asked, making his way over to the map on the floor and grabbing it.

"Each pin represents a sigil," she replied absentmindedly, still trying to figure out what to do next.

"You know the girl died outside of town right? She was at some party," Sam noted, pointed to a spot on the map well beyond the protected borders of the town.

"Smart…" Laura muttered to herself, feeling somewhat relieved that at least she cast the spell right. "They must have sensed me."

"Can you sense them? Can you tell where they are?" Sam asked, as the young woman began to bite her lip in thought.

"I mean, I've never tried a location spell before…" Laura began, but Dean rudely cut her off.

"Some witch you are, Glinda," he mumbled, earning himself a dirty look from both his companions.

"You don't need to be a witch to practice Wicca. Don't you read?" she retorted.

Before their banter could escalate, however, Sam spoke up: "Can you try now?"

Laura knew this was the only option they had left, but she was extremely worn out from lack of sleep, the overexertion of her psychic abilities, and the recent physical altercation she had just endured.

With a curt nod from the young psychic, the Winchesters and their new ally began to pour over the books in search of a location ritual. Within about an hour and half, Laura had successfully completed the ritual, and the flames she burned on the map stopped around an old plot of land next to the local cemetery.

"That's where we have to go," Laura said, rubbing her pounding head, and handing them the charred map.

"We?" Dean repeated with raised eyebrows. "Sorry Bewitched, but we work alone."

Laura's eyes nearly bugged out of her face: "Are you kidding me? If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even know where to go! Besides I was in town first, so this is _my_ case."

Sam gave Laura an apologetic look.

"Listen," he sighed, "you should probably get out of town. If we succeed, you won't be needed, but if Samhain does rise…" Samuel started, but Dean cut him off before his brother let slip that angels were involved with the case.

"We'll have too much on our plate to worry about saving your ass," he stated haughtily.

Sam glanced at his older brother, knowing why he interrupted him, but he also knew that the brunette would not take kindly to Dean's words. His eyes then met the fuming young woman's who clearly did not enjoy being spoken to like a helpless civilian.

"How chivalrous," she said with sarcasm dripping off her words.

Laura glared at the shorter of the two, while his smug face showed signs of a slight grin.

"And don't even think about tailing us there… we'll tie you to the chair again if we need to," Dean threatened, clearly enjoying himself.

And with that, the Winchesters exited the hotel room, leaving an enraged Laura staring after them.


	4. Chapter 4

**All right, so this chapter is mostly Sam and Dean centric, with some good old fashioned Winchester ass-kicking. I own nothing. Read/Review. **

**Chapter Four:**

The Winchesters had arrived at the old, shabby home adjacent to the town's cemetery. Both Sam and Dean peered out the open window into the darkness. They waited in silence for a moment or two to assess what they were possibly getting themselves into. Not seeing any visible light or movement, Sam muttered: "You think Samhain's all ready in there?"

"I think this place would be crawling with Thriller rejects if he was all ready around," his older brother responded with furrowed eyebrows.

Both brothers continued to strain their eyes, hoping to see any sign of life inside the ramshackle house, but they had no such luck; after a minute or two, both of the Winchesters sighed and decided to go check the place out. Exiting the '67 Chevy Impala, they both armed themselves with whatever weapons they deemed necessary for this particular foe, and then made their way over to the shadowy house as silently as possible.

Sam tried the door, which was locked, so Dean kept watch as his younger brother worked on the deadbolt. Once the familiar click was heard, they exchanged one last nervous glance and headed inside the house.

The place was drafty, shrouded in spider webs, and barren with the exception of a few blanketed pieces of furniture. With their guns ready to fire at any moment, the made their way around each crevice of the tiny home's first floor, but when there were no signs of anyone else taking up residence there, Dean asked: "You think that chick did the ritual wrong?"

Sam shook his head in uncertainty, but as they were just about to lower their weapons they heard movement coming from below them. Now fully alert, the brothers tiptoed their way to a door in the corner of the dilapidated and dusty kitchen. The door was slightly ajar, and though no light was visible, they heard the faint noise of someone speaking. With a terse nod, the eldest Winchester took the lead down the dark stairwell into the cellar.

Once they made it to the landing, they saw some candles lit in the far corner, barely illuminating Don, who was taunting the bound and gagged Tracy. The jailbait blonde was weeping, with her pleads for mercy being stifled by the rag tied tightly around her mouth. Don had just finished the incantation and made his way over to her. He playfully ran the blade of his knife down her neck and onto her cleavage. As tears rolled down her face, the greasy haired man cruelly grinned, raising the weapon to stab her. Just as he was about to plunge the dagger into the terrified girl's heart, three loud gunshots rang out, and Don collapsed to the floor with a blank expression. Sam rushed over to the body and checked his pulse, making sure that he was indeed dead, while Dean cut Tracy free.

Ripping the gag from her mouth, she breathlessly thanked the brothers and exclaimed: "That sick bastard was trying to sacrifice me! Can you believe it? As if our master would rather my brother survive."

Her voice became cold and malicious, and once Dean and Sam realized what she had said, it was too late to react. In one swift gesture, Tracy threw the brothers across the cellar, slamming them into the banister of the stairs. While they were writhing on the floor in pain, the teenage witch made her way over to her deceased brother's corpse with a satisfied smile.

"Six hundred years of waiting to do this ritual and some little gnat almost stopped us… we nearly ran out of time, and my pompous brother figured he'd make me the final sacrifice," she explained while the Winchester's clutched their stomachs in agony. "Well look who's the blood-bag now."

As she said this, she reached down and dug deep into his bullet wound with the dagger. Gripping an ancient chalice tightly, she dropped a few drops of Don's blood into it and made her way back to the altar.

While she was chanting the summoning ritual's words, Sam dipped his hand into a bit of Don's blood, which had begun to pool near the pair of hunters. Smearing the blood onto his own face, Sam grimaced, and once Dean noticed what his younger brother was doing, he asked in a horse, pained whisper: "The Hell are you doing?"

"Just follow my lead," Sam responded back, wiping some blood onto his thoroughly disgusted older brother's face.

Just as they finished up, Don's body shifted suddenly, and both brothers realized it was too late to stop Samhain from rising. Deciding to play dead, they laid there, very still and barely breathing, daring only to watch from barely opened eyes.

Don was on his feet now, and he made his way over to the beaming Tracy.

"Master," she adverted her eyes a bit. "My love."

Don's pale white eyes gazed down at her. "You've done well."

Tracy let out a sigh of relief, and bowed her head as Samhain stroked her hair. Then, in a millisecond, his calm face grew murderous as he snapped her neck.

Looking down at her dead body, Samhain spat and mumbled: "Whore."

He began to make his way towards the stairs, and sniffed the air. Looking down at his feet, he saw the blurred faces of Sam and Dean; after a brief pause, Samhain then continued his way up the staircase and shut the cellar door behind him.

Propping himself up with a sigh of relief, Dean asked with a puzzled expression: "What just happened?"

"Halloween lore says people used to wear masks to hide from him… I figured this would maybe work," Sam shrugged.

"_Maybe_ work?" Dean repeated, clearly unsettled by the fact that barely survived that close call with Samhain.

"Did you have a better idea?" Sam asked, as they rose, brushed themselves off and began to make their way back upstairs.

Dean thought for a moment or two, then decided to change the conversation altogether: "So where are we even gonna find this son of a bitch?"

"If he's the Pied Piper for the dead, I'd say we're pretty damn close to his destination," Sam responded, as they each wiped the blood off of their faces and walked back outside into the crisp autumn air.

"How big is this cemetery again?" Dean inquired, hoping to God it wouldn't take all night to find this guy.

"I don't know, but we better hurry," Sam stated the obvious as they ran across the street and hopped the cemetery fence.

"This guy's supposed to be a big bad, huh?" Dean asked after a few minutes of earnestly searching the cemetery with their flashlights.

"Yeah. I don't know if Ruby's knife will be enough," Sam mostly thought out loud, but just as the words left his lips, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

Dean gave his brother a stern look and said with an accusing tone: "You better not be thinking about using your freaky psychic crap."

"Dean…" Sam tried to defend himself, but his brother interjected as they rounded the corner, stumbling onto a row of massive, ornate mausoleums.

"Don't even think about it. I think it's bad mojo, the angels think it's bad mojo, so just don't," Dean commanded.

"I thought you said the angels are just a bunch of militant dicks," Sam pointed out.

Dean stumbled over his words as he replied: "Well I agree with them on this one."

"I don't know, man. They don't seem to be right about a lot of stuff," Sam glanced over at his brother, still mentally yelling at himself for being so honest about his intentions with his brother.

"Fine then forget the angels, but even you said playing around with those Yellow Eyed powers are dangerous," Dean looked back up at his brother with an almost beseeching expression. "Please."

Before Sam could respond to his older brother, however, they heard shouting coming from a mausoleum just ahead of them. Without a second-thought, the Winchesters took off and ran down the marble steps. The frantic and terrified shouts of some high school teenagers rang in the boys' ears as they reached the landing. The gate was locked, trapping the intoxicated, costumed teens inside with what appeared to be very angry, very dangerous reanimated corpses. Blood was all ready splattered across the floor and walls, and all of the crypts' doors were beginning to break as dozens of skeletal, decaying hands came breaking out of the darkness.

"Help them!" Sam demanded as more corpses began to crawl out from their place of eternal rest.

"You're not taking that demon alone," Dean argued, as they both watched on at the horrific events unfolding before them.

The bloodcurdling scream of a teenage boy being ripped to shreds by three zombies snapped the Winchester's out of their disagreement, and with one final coaxing word from Sam, Dean stayed behind, breaking open the iron gate just in time to watch his baby brother disappear down the darkened hallway of the mausoleum.

"Move! Move! Get out!" Dean shouted as a stampede of frightened kids rushed up the stairs towards to cemetery grounds.

Swinging his blade, he decapitated three of the closest zombies, though he knew it wouldn't keep them down forever. Dean pulled out a silver stake from his bag as more and more grayish-green, decaying zombies poured from the walls.

One was directly behind him, and in one swift motion, the eldest Winchester spun around and staked the zombie into the marble floor, rendering it immobile. Searching through his bag, he gripped another silver stake as a less decomposed corpse made its way towards him.

"Bring it, Fido," Dean swung, nailing it into the ground as well.

Moving quickly, he cut a few more zombies' heads off and ran towards to gate in hopes of locking the overwhelming number of corpses in there and buying himself more time. Just as he yanked a heavy chain from his bag, the figure of an old, unfriendly woman appeared before him, blocking his way. She stuck her ghostly arm deep into Dean's chest and gripped his heart.

Sputtering in pain as the evil spirit grinned at him, Dean tried to swing the iron chain at the apparition, but she knocked it from his hands. The eldest Winchester could feel his heart being squashed, and for a moment he thought this could be it for him. Just as the pain was becoming unbearable, the ghost before him vanished in a fiery cloud.

Doubled over and holding his chest firmly, he tried to catch his breath and looked up in time to see a pair of chocolate brown riding boots reach the landing of the mausoleum.

Within a second or two, Laura was helping the hunter up.

Still out of breath, Dean could barely form a word, let alone fight off the zombie that was dangerously close to the pair of them. He reached for his machete and swung, slicing the head clean off the zombie, whilst the young woman staked another one into the ground. Grabbing the chain from the ground, the brunette ran towards the gate and Dean dove through just in time to avoid another corpse from attacking him. Closing the padlock, the corpses were stuck behind the sturdy gate, causing them to become harmless.

Laura helped the hunter up off of the marble floor, and gave him a wry smile before playfully asking: "So who's saving whose ass?"

Just as Dean was about to deliver a sarcastic response, his eyes widened as the ghostly figure of a man appeared directly behind Laura. Seeing the older hunter's reaction, Laura spun around, but was then thrown into the marble wall. Dean pulled out his shotgun and fired a rock-salt round at the spirit, causing it to disappear. Before he could even turn around to make sure that Laura was okay, three more spirits appeared. Dean fired his gun again and again, but every time he got rid of one ghost, two or three more would pop up.

At this point Laura knew the situation was dire, and hoisted her weakened and bruised body off of the cold, marble floor. She looked around and realized that she and the mysterious hunter were completely and hopelessly surrounded.

Gripping her amulet, she demanded that Dean get behind her. The eldest Winchester looked at her incredulously and argued: "No way!"

Laura shook her head in vexation, but knew there was no time to waste or they both would be torn apart. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in, the psychic threw up her arm, exhaled, and as she opened her intense blue-green eyes, a pulse of white energy was sent throughout the hallway, causing the dozens of encroaching spirits to be dispatched, as well as setting fire to the trapped corpses.

Having been knocked down by the completely unexpected surge of psychic energy, a stunned Dean was sprawled on the floor. He simply sat there, thoroughly confounded by what he had just witnessed this woman do. Blinking a few times, he got up and collected his weapons from the floor, all the while never breaking his steady gaze on Laura.

She was equally silent, and appeared just as uneasy about the situation. Laura had never taken on so many spirits at one time before, and she certainly never killed any of them in such a manner. Her head was throbbing and she felt faint, but there was no time to stop now.

"How the Hell…" Dean began to sputter out, but Laura merely took off down the dark hallway.

Realizing that his brother was still left alone with Samhain, Dean was close at her heels and soon surpassed the brunette. As they reached a small chapel inside the mausoleum, they both stopped in their tracks.

Standing before them, gripping his head in agony, was Sam Winchester, exorcising the extremely powerful demon. Laura watched on in confusion and awe, and glanced over at the man standing beside her. His expression was not remotely shocked, but rather heartbroken and disappointed.

The youngest Winchester saw the young woman and his brother over Samhain's trembling shoulder, but he knew he could not stop. He was almost finished and just needed to concentrate a little more. With one last push, Sam forced the demon from Don's dead body, which collapsed onto the floor. He felt pleased with himself for taking on a being as strong as Samhain, but as he felt Dean's stare boring through him, the youngest brother hung his head and silently walked past the two onlookers, wiping away the blood which was now dripping from his nose.


	5. Chapter 5

**So this one took me a while to write. It's tying up some loose ends and setting the stage for the rest of the chapters/relationships to come. Again, I owe nothing but my OC! Read and review! **

**Oh! The next chapters will move more quickly than these five, so everything will pick up in pace with my chapter 6! Enjoy.**

**Chapter Five:**

The next day was bright and sunny as Samuel Winchester packed his belongings. He had not spoken to Dean since the night before, and he wasn't quite sure how to approach his brother about the situation. Although tampering with his psychic abilities was definitely dangerous, Sam truly believed that he and Ruby were helping save people. He felt stronger, and more confident that he could protect the innocent and eventually get his revenge on Lilith, all while preventing her from releasing Lucifer from his prison in Hell.

Sam's brother, on the other hand, was not so optimistic about the situation. Sam always knew Dean was nervous about certain parts of him… the darker parts… the parts that linked him with Azazel's other 'special children' and what made him invulnerable to Lilith or even Samhain's attacks. Dean worried about Sam to begin with, and with his recent confidence in the demon Ruby, Sam knew this was all a little too weird for his brother to be handling well.

To make matters worse, Uriel had visited him earlier that morning and threatened him. Sam knew God's little soldiers were nun-too-happy about his embracing the demonically given powers and had all ready warned Dean to stop him, but this morning the dangerously angry African American angel stated quite matter-of-factly that he would kill Sam if he became a nuisance or stood in their way. What really bothered the youngest Winchester, however, was the last ominous thing Uriel said to him before disappearing: "Ask what Dean remembers from Hell."

Those words were still echoing in Sam's head when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine pulling into the parking lot. Sam threw his bag over his broad, muscular shoulder, and exited their hotel room, locking it behind him. The sun was intense, and he shielded his eyes as Dean turned off the ignition and hopped out of the infamous black '67 Chevy.

Shoveling an Egg McMuffin into his all ready stuffed mouth, Dean was gazing at a pristine 1966 cherry red Mustang convertible parked across the lot. Sam made his way over and threw his and his older brother's bags into the trunk. He then slammed it closed, staring at his brother who still played no attention to him. Dean looked tired and lost in troubled thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Sam walked to the passenger door and leaned against the car's roof opposite his brother.

With no acknowledgement, Sam sighed and asked: "Dean, can we talk about last night?"

"What about it?" Dean played dumb while avoiding eye contact and closely examining his breakfast sandwich.

"You know what," Sam stared hard at his brother, contemplating whether or not to force this much-needed conversation.

His older brother merely glanced at Sam with an exhausted expression, shook his head, and proceeded to shovel the last bit of food into his mouth. Once finished chewing, he threw the garbage over his shoulder and swallowed the painfully large amount of food. He let out a large belch, and smiled proudly to himself, but the smile quickly faded as he gawked at something behind Sam.

With a confused expression, Sam turned around and saw what Dean had suddenly grown embarrassed about. Standing behind him, with her duffel bag over one, slender shoulder and a massive cup of coffee in her hand, was the peculiar brunette that had helped them out that night. Her eyebrows were arched and a mixed expression of disgust and amusement was behind her brilliant blue-green eyes.

Dean felt another burp coming up, but he stifled it, swallowing hard.

"Ugh, morning," he said weakly, feeling uncomfortable as she continued to stare at him.

Sam grinned, knowing how mortified his older brother was.

Laura glanced between the two brothers, raised her coffee and responded shortly: "Morning."

As she turned, she broke into the smile she had been suppressing the entire time and sipped her macchiato.

The brothers watched as she walked away across the lot. Her long, dark brown hair was down and she appeared to be wearing the same exact outfit from that night: brown leather riding boots, dark blue skinny jeans, a tight white tank top, and a chocolate leather jacket. Sam wondered out loud if she hadn't slept either, for she appeared just as worn out as they did, if not more.

"I don't know, but man, did she look like that last night?" Dean asked, lustrously staring at her ass as she continued on her way to her vehicle.

Sam shook his head at his horny brother, and opened the passenger car door. As he was about to get in, he heard Dean mutter: "Well I'll be damned…"

The youngest Winchester looked over and saw where his now extremely excited brother was gawking: the mysterious brunette was throwing her bags into the back seat of the very same classic muscle car that Dean was admiring before.

As she was bent over, Dean Winchester cocked his head to the side. He couldn't help admire her; the woman was attractive… had a bit of an attitude problem, but she did save his life (even if it was in the most unconventional way).

With a slight groan, the eldest Winchester mumbled: "I wouldn't mind getting under that…"

Sam gaped at his brother's remark and scolded him incredulously: "Dude!"

Dean feigned innocence, looking at his brother with wide eyes and asking: "What? I obviously meant the car."

Sam wasn't buying it. A devilish expression crept across the eldest Winchester's face as he raised his eyebrows at Sam. Before his brother could protest the inevitable, Dean Winchester strode over to where the brunette was now throwing some things into her trunk.

With a long whistle, the shorter hunter startled Laura. Quickly shutting her arsenal, she spun around to find him less than an arms-length away.

"Nice dump yah got there," Dean complimented her weapons with a crooked grin.

"Ugh, thanks," Laura responded with an awkward smirk, squinting a bit in the bright morning sun.

A slight breeze picked up, blowing her long, wavy brown hair across her face a bit. She tucked a piece behind her ear, and Dean noticed she had light, tiny freckles running across the bridge of her nose.

Laura broke eye contact with the brilliant man's green eyes by turning to lock her trunk. She was still annoyed about how rude he was to her that evening, but God, was he handsome!

"Sweet ride," he said, as she turned back around and walked towards the driver's side front door.

"I could say the same to you," Laura responded, nodding over to the Impala and the taller hunter trying not to stare at them.

Dean grinned proudly, as she leaned into the car and grabbed a map from the glove box.

"Did you fix it up yourself? Looks brand new," Dean asked, stealing another look at her behind, but when she turned around abruptly, he quickly looked away and scratched the back of his head.

Laura eyed him suspiciously as the hunter grinned back awkwardly.

"No," she said slowly. "It was a gift from a close friend."

Dean chuckled and raised his eyebrows: "Pretty generous gift. You know how rare these are? And in this condition?" he ran his hand across the glossy roof.

Laura opened the map and began to look at where she needed to head next and responded without looking up: "He got it from an acquaintance in South Dakota. It was just laying in his junkyard, so he paid for the parts and the labor was free."

The man appeared to be thinking hard about something as Laura looked up at him and folded up the map.

"All right, well I gotta hit the road," she smiled weakly, tossing the map back into the car.

Dean snapped out of it, not wanting her to go. The Winchester had so many questions about this mysterious woman, but he didn't know where to even begin.

"Wait, about last night…" he rushed the words out as she turned to get into the classic Mustang.

Laura stopped, turning to look at the man so that he would continue.

Dean cleared his throat: "I, um, owe you a…"

"An apology?" she interrupted, shielding her eyes from the sun and gazing up at the man who was about 5 inches taller than her.

Dean seemed a bit off-put.

"I was gonna say thank you, but sure you can throw an apology in there too, I guess."

He knew she deserved one. The woman had done nothing wrong except trying to help protect the people of the town, and even went out of her way to save Dean and Sam after they were so rude to her.

"You guess?" she cocked an eyebrow and gazed up at Dean with her piercing blue-green eyes.

"Well yeah. I mean it wasn't completely our fault though," Dean smirked a bit.

"Oh no? It wasn't?" she folded her slender, toned arms, growing slightly annoyed that he wasn't going to take any responsibility for what had happened the night before.

"I mean maybe if you were acting a little less suspicious…" Dean innocently thought out loud.

Laura bit her cheek rather than give a snarky retort, and when the man realized he was putting his foot in his mouth, he cut to the chase.

"Look, I'm not big with the thank you's, but you saved my life back there… I don't take it lightly," he said seriously.

Laura nodded her head: "Then you're welcome."

The mysterious woman turned to get into the car again and Dean blurted out: "How'd you do all that? You said you aren't a witch, so how did you, well… you know?"

Laura cocked an eyebrow, feeling he was overstepping his boundaries.

"How'd your partner do what he did?" she shot back.

Dean flinched a bit. His mind had been reeling all night over what he had witnessed. The eldest Winchester was struggling to maintain his own sanity since Hell, let alone worrying about his baby brother going dark-side. Dean wanted Sammy to have no part in Azazel's psychic kid crap, but Ruby was definitely influencing his brother in the other direction. He was frustrated, scared, and feeling helpless, and now, this strange young woman had watched what Dean had been trying so hard to keep a secret from the rest of the hunting world.

Dean searched for a proper response, but Laura saved him from further discomfort.

"Well this whole thing's been… interesting, but as I said, I gotta get going," she ran her hand through her hair and slid into the black leather driver's seat.

She slammed her door shut, turned on the ignition, and threw the car in reverse. Before she pulled out of her spot, Laura lowered her window ("Gimme Shelter" by The Rolling Stones could faintly be heard on the radio).

"Nice meeting you. Take care," she grinned, putting her aviators on.

"Wait! Can I get your name at least?" Dean asked as she pulled out of the spot.

The stunning brunette popped her head out of the driver's window and responded: "Laura."

And with that, she cranked up the volume and sped out of the parking lot, giving each Winchester a brief wave. Dean walked back to the Impala, as he and Sam silently watched the cherry red convertible speed down the road and disappear into the glaring sunlight.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is the beginning of the alliance that will eventually form between my OC and the Winchesters; it is also the start to the build up of the story's climax. Read and review. I do not own anything. Thanks!**

**Chapter Six:**

"I still don't understand why you're willing to help them again," Laura stated with frustration as she drove her '66 Mustang down the desolate highway.

"They're my friends and they need help," Pamela responded simply as she pushed her dark sunglasses higher up on her nose.

Laura glanced at her recently blinded friend and couldn't help but feel rage bubble up inside of her.

"Haven't you given enough? I mean that angel burned your eyes out, Pam," Laura pointed out.

Pamela Barnes turned to face her protective companion. Though she was blind, she still possessed more senses than most, and she could tell that Laura was still struggling with the fact that she was indeed, hearing the conversations of the same beings that harmed her friend.

"I would do the same for you," Pamela said tenderly, reaching out and gently touching her friend's hand.

Laura glanced down at their hands, back to Pamela, and then focused once more on the long, seemingly endless road ahead of them.

"That's different," Laura muttered.

"How so?"

"Cause I would never ask you to do something like that again! How selfish are these Winchester people anyway? Why do they expect people to just keep putting themselves in danger for them? They're not the only ones with issues," she erupted angrily.

Pamela waited a minute or two for her to calm down. She knew that Laura had been irritable for the last two weeks. Her night terrors were keeping her up at night to the point that she barely slept, she had been hunting non-stop and studying in an effort to better understand her newly developed psychic powers, and above all, she had found out that those voices haunting her every waking moment were those of angels. Beyond that, however, Laura had fallen into a bit of a depression. She missed her old life: her family, friends, school, and the peaceful bliss that came along with ignorance about what was really out there. After the rising of Samhain, it had taken all of her willpower to not pick up the phone and call them, to tell her loved ones how much she loved and missed them.

"Laur," Pamela finally spoke, "You and I both know this is bigger than the both of us, or even the Winchesters. That poor girl needs our help. Aren't you the one always putting yourself at risk to protect the innocent? Isn't that why you left home in the first place?" the blind psychic asked the obvious questions.

Laura paused and took a breath.

"I just don't wanna watch you get yourself killed for those guys... From what I hear they're nothing but trouble, and…" Laura began to feel herself beginning to rant again, so she stopped herself. "I just worry about you, okay?"

Pamela could feel the pain in her friend's voice.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, sweetie, okay? I may be blind, but I still got enough fight in me no matter what comes my way," Pamela flashed her brilliant, reassuring smile.

Laura smirked, teasing: "Yeah, I mean, you can always hit someone with that white cane of yours."

Pamela erupted with her contagious cackling laugh and responded in between breaths: "Sure, make fun of the blind chick."

Both psychics continued to laugh as the cherry red convertible sped further down the highway, disappearing into the horizon.

* * *

Sam and Dean Winchester were pacing around Bobby Singer's panic room. Ruby was lazily propped against the doorway, unable to get inside. All three of them kept stealing glances as the fair, redheaded woman sitting on the bed in the far corner. Her eyes were red and puffy, due to her recent bout of crying.

Dean glanced anxiously at the clock on the iron walls coated in salt. It had been a very, very long week for the Winchesters. Not only had Dean found out that his younger brother had been screwing Ruby the entire time since he went to the pit, explaining his odd allegiance to that demon bitch, they had also stumbled onto a tug-of-war between angels and demons over the life of the redheaded woman named Anna. She was apparently able to listen in on the conversations of the angels, making her a threat to Heaven's security, as well as a target for the armies of Hell. Beyond that odd ability, the strange young woman was also able to banish angels without knowing how she exactly did it, and Uriel and Castiel stated that she had a shadowy past, making Anna far from the innocent girl she portrayed herself as.

Anna, however, seemed completely honest about not knowing why or how she could do any of those things. She was lost, confused, terrified, and in mourning over the recent deaths of her immediate family at the hands of a demon whom Dean regrettably knew all too well: Alastair. In a desperate attempt to save Anna's life, they needed to help her remember her dark past. Bobby had suggested they call Pamela, who was proficient as hypnotizing people as a way to open up their subconsciously blocked memories.

The Winchesters felt horrible dragging the psychic back into their messy problems, especially after what had happened to her the last time. For this reason they were beyond surprised when Ms. Barnes agreed to help them almost immediately. Now it was just a matter of time until the mystery surrounding this poor girl could be lifted, possibly giving Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Ruby a way to help save her from both enemies.

From upstairs, they heard Bobby open his porch door, and within a few seconds everyone could hear the familiar husky voice of Pamela, cracking some joke and laughing the hardest over it. Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and Anna seemed to perk up a bit in her seat. Even the aloof Ruby seemed to stand at attention once the sounds of footsteps coming down the staircase echoed throughout the panic room.

Pamela was the first to walk in, using her white cane to maneuver around Bobby Singer's cramped, dank basement. She rounded the corner and stepped through the threshold into the panic room.

"Pamela!" Sam cried, rushing over to her.

"Is that you, Sam?" she asked, looking all over the room.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam said, touching her arm before embracing the psychic.

As they hugged, Pamela reached around and grabbed the youngest Winchester's behind, making him jump slightly.

"Of course I know it's you, Grumpy! Just like that chick outside's a demon, your brother's staring at my rack, and that unfortunate girl in the corner is Anna," she said, looking at each of them respectively.

Dean didn't even say anything before giving their friend a large, warm hug.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"Wish I could say the same," Pamela teased, but as if sensing the discomfort her joke made, she said: "Oh lighten up!"

Pamela made her way over to the bed, and sat beside the somewhat confused redhead.

"Hi, Anna. The name's Pamela. I'm here to help," she beamed, taking the fair woman's delicate manicured hand into her own.

"That's very kind of you," she responded quietly.

"Not really, no. I'm just hoping to dick over some of those angels," she smirked wickedly.

Anna appeared confused and sort of horrified by how nonchalant the psychic was about defying those supreme, dangerous, and powerful beings.

"Can I ask why?" she inquired.

"They're the ones that made me blind," Pamela responded with a shrug. "But that's besides the point… I need my things." Pamela's voice trailed off, and then she called: "Bobby! Hurry up!"

"Yes, your highness!" the sarcastic, gruff voice of Bobby Singer called from upstairs.

"What do you need to hypnotize her?" Sam asked, taking a seat at a desk adjacent to the bed.

"Some books, but I also need my partner," Pamela replied absentmindedly before calling upstairs again: "Any day now!"

The noise of people clamoring down the stairs could be heard as Sam and Dean looked at one another, surprised their friend was working with another psychic for help. Before Dean could inquire as to whom Pamela's associate was, a familiar voice was heard snapping back at their psychic friend.

"I drove ten hours straight! Sorry for needing the bathroom," came a snarky female voice.

A smirk spread across Pamela's face as Bobby and her partner walked into everyone's line of sight. Bobby stepped into the panic room, and went to introduce the brunette to the rest of the group, but when Laura laid eyes on Sam and Dean, her small grin melted away. Glancing between both of them, she turned her gaze onto Pamela and said in a tone of both disbelief and irritation: "You've got to be kidding me."


	7. Chapter 7

**The meat and potatoes (so to speak) of the main story arch is finally about to start! Enjoy and comment with any helpful suggestions! Again, I own nothing. **

**Chapter Seven:**

Sam and Dean were both taken off guard to have met the brunette hunter again so soon, especially given the circumstances. Sam merely did a double take, as his older brother broke out into a surprised, yet crooked smile. They both gazed at Laura, who was holding a couple of books and a black cloth bag in both hands, with the most peculiar expression.

"Everybody, this is Laura. Laura, these are…" Bobby said gesturing to Sam and Dean.

"The Winchesters," Laura said darkly, and then strode over to Pamela, dropping the heavy books onto the floor and gruffly shoving the bag into her friend's lap. "Really Pam? Couldn't have given me a heads up?"

Though she was blind, Pamela could hear in Laura's voice how agitated she was, but for the life of her, she could barely stifle her giggles.

"I really don't find this amusing," Laura scolded her friend, putting her delicate hands on her hips. Pamela had a habit of thrusting Laura into uncomfortable situations just to see how she would react; it was a source of entertainment for her.

"I take it you three met before?" Bobby ventured with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, they've met before," Pamela responded with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying herself.

Sam and Dean didn't know what to make of Laura's reaction to them. Sure they were a bit rude in Christiansburg, but the Winchesters thought they had at least left off on a better note than what warranted her reaction.

"Where?" Bobby inquired with a thoroughly confused expression.

Laura waved off the question and said: "It doesn't matter. Let's just focus on Anna."

The quiet redhead seemed to appreciate it, for she had been fretting the entire time about the fact that her own world was crashing around her.

"My name's Laura. Pamela and I are psychics and we're going to put you under hypnosis. Are you okay with that?" the brunette asked with a professional tone, not even waiting a second before kneeling on the ground and digging some things out of the Pamela's black cloth bag.

'So she's a psychic. Well that makes sense' Dean thought to himself, and as he glanced at his kid brother, he could tell Sammy was thinking the same thing. Although this eased their minds a bit about Laura, they still had prolonged conversations between themselves and Bobby about what type of psychic could do what she did in that mausoleum.

"You have the candles?" Pamela inquired, standing up and pulling a desk chair towards the head of the bed as Laura continued to set everything up.

The brunette with breathtaking blue-green eyes didn't need to respond, for she flicked her lighter and began lighting all the candles she placed around the bed.

"Lie down, sweetie," Pamela gently guided Anna down.

The redhead tentatively obeyed, though everyone could see pure terror swirling behind her dark, almost childlike brown eyes. Anna laid down, eyes darting around the many interested faces. Bobby had inched his way forward, and stood behind Sam and Dean. The Winchesters watched on with both curiosity and anticipation from behind the circle of candles Laura had set up. Pulling her ancient silver amulet from underneath her plain white, fitted tank top, Laura told Pamela that everything was ready.

"Okay, Anna, close your eyes. I'm gonna recite a few prayers, and during that time you're going to feel your eyes grow heavier. Don't fight it. Let yourself drift away, and when I count to five, you'll be under. Understand?" Pamela stated calmly, holding the redhead's pale hand with her own olive one.

Anna nodded and closed her eyes. Pamela Barnes then grabbed Laura's hand. Laura immediately tensed up, and told Anna to breath, and that she needed to calm herself down or it wouldn't work. Anna tried her best to comply, but after a few minutes, she let out a frustrated sigh and asked: "How am I supposed to do this? My family was just murdered and demons _and_ angels are chasing me… calming down doesn't feel possible!"

Pamela turned her head, as if looking directly into Laura's eyes, and nodded her head, silently giving her permission to do something. With a sigh, Laura rose from the ground and walked behind the head of the bed.

"Okay, close your eyes," Laura said softly.

Anna protested in exasperation, but the young psychic insisted: "Just do it."

The redhead took one last glance at Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Ruby before complying.

"Okay, now inhale," the brunette with wavy hair said, taking Anna's hand. She used her own delicate fingers to open Anna's and slid her hand past the redhead's palm up to her wrist. Gripping her slender wrist, Laura breathed in, and closed her eyes.

Anna grabbed Laura's wrist back as Laura exhaled and said in an almost whisper: "Exhale."

Anna breathed out, and almost immediately, her tense body went limp; her face appeared serene. Laura, on the other hand, had seemed to become agitated, with a stiff posture and pained expression. She swallowed hard as a small tear escaped her eyes and ran down her cheek. As if swapping mindsets completely, Anna was now peaceful, whilst Laura seemed to be struggling to steady her breathing.

Everyone was holding their breath and the entire room was eerily silent. With her free hand, Laura reached up and clutched her amulet so tightly that her knuckles grew a bloodless, pale white color.

Her face was contorted in a strange, distressed expression, and for a moment, Laura's breathing hitched in pain.

Pamela reached out and touched her friend's shoulder, signaling her to stop before she absorbed too much of Anna's pain and suffering. Laura was an empathetic, which meant she could tap into the emotions, physical sensations, and even the general aura of another human being. Though extremely helpful at enabling her relate to others and avoiding dangerous people and situations, when Laura attempted to ease the suffering of others, it often took a large toll on her physically, and she had been struggling to learn when to let go.

The moment Pam's hand rested on her bare, sun-kissed shoulder, Laura felt a warm surge break through the cold darkness she currently found her body growing numb to. Opening her eyes, she blinked a couple of times and let go of the now serene Anna.

"She's ready," Laura spoke with a shaky voice. She felt everyone's eyes boring into her, but she pretended not to notice their stares.

With her word, Pamela began praying as Laura returned to the foot of the bed, picking the books up from the floor. She felt faint, and was struggling to push away the oppressive feelings of extreme fear, grief, guilt, and confusion that she had absorbed from the redheaded woman. She finally got the courage to look around the room, and everyone was thankfully now attentatively watching Pamela continue with the prayers, with the exception of the stunning, dark haired girl standing in the doorway. The woman's dark, almost black eyes were piercing her with an expression of extreme interest.

As she stepped out of the circle of candles, Laura suddenly saw another face beneath the black haired woman's sultry one.

'She's Ruby. She's the demon," Laura thought, stifling her fear and appearing nonchalant and collected. As she made her way outside the panic room, Laura could have sworn she saw Ruby smirk in a foreboding, and almost eerie manner. Deciding not to overthink a demon's not-so-friendly look, Laura made her way up the stairs to do some research while Pamela took care of the now fully hypnotized Anna.

* * *

Pamela Barnes made her way over to her companion, who was pouring over a couple of open books in Bobby Singer's library. Sighing, Pamela plopped down on the very broken-in couch.

"How'd it go?" Laura inquired, knowing full well that it was probably not good news; there hadn't been good news in months and with the entire house's lights flickering, Laura knew nothing Pamela said would be a positive sign.

Pamela searched for the words, but decided to just come out and say it: "She's a fallen angel."

Laura picked her head up from her books, turned around in her chair, and stared hard at Pamela.

"A fallen angel?" she repeated.

"Apparently she wasn't a fan of being robo-cop anymore and tore her grace out," came the voice Dean Winchester walking into the library.

Laura immediately grew cold, but was too curious not to continue the conversation.

"So they can just tear that out?" she asked, giving Dean an unfriendly look.

He seemed taken off guard by such a harsh expression on her face, and responded slowly: "Apparently. Sam's looking for where it dropped down, but ugh, we're running out of time."

His voice trailed off as he glanced between Pamela and Laura, as if expecting something.

Laura and Pamela both appeared to be lost in thought, so Dean ventured: "We may need a little bit of help finding it, so if you could maybe do another locater spell…"

"No!" Pamela protested to the great surprise of both Laura and Dean.

"Why? She helped us with Samhain. Did a damn good job, too," he said, adding the last bit with a smirk directed at the brunette sitting at the desk; He hoped that his compliment would make Laura a bit less peeved at him.

Laura didn't have time to speak before Pamela rose, grabbed her elbow tightly, and dragged her towards the door.

"Can I talk to you, please?" Pamela said between her teeth, and before dragging her friend outside onto the porch, she smiled weakly at Dean and excused herself.

Dean Winchester stood there awkwardly scratching his head and watched from the window as Laura and Pamela began to argue a bit.

"You know why the angels want this girl killed right?" Pamela inquired with raised eyebrows.

"Sure. She's one of them… well was," Laura corrected herself, shoving her hands into her skinny jean's back pockets.

"But what made them start taking an interest in her?" Pamela persisted.

Laura knew why her friend was so worried, for the thought had crossed her mind as well.

"Because she can listen in on them."

"Yeah, and hey, guess what, you can too, Laur," Pamela stated.

Laura hated seeing her usually cheery friend getting this upset.

"But no one knows that," Laura pointed out with a small, reassuring grin.

"Doesn't matter. You need to stay far away from that girl. She's got big time demons on her ass who would just love to get their hands on someone like you, and if the angels ever caught wind of what you can do…" Pamela trailed of, nervously touching her curly black hair.

"No one's gonna find out, Pam," Laura stated firmly. She knew the risks; she knew what could happen to her or anyone she cared about if she was discovered. That's why she ran from home and pushed everyone away. Laura also understood, however, that she was given these abilities for a reason, and she needed to figure out why and learn to use them to stop Lucifer from rising.

"What if they do?" her friend asked again. "What would you do? What would I do?"

"Don't tell me that _now_ your scared of those fluffy-winged bastards," Laura teased a bit, but Pamela was in no mood.

"You can't help this girl. You need to stay as far away as possible."

"Weren't you the one who told me that if I wanted to control and understand my powers, I'd have to look for the answers, no matter what it took? This girl, she's the only person I've ever met who's like me… she can do what I can… she can hear them and she sees what demons really look like. I have to help keep her alive long enough to talk to her about it," Laura explained, knowing that getting involved in this any further would certainly end badly.

Pamela shook her head, then stated: "I can't watch you march to your own death…"

"Good thing you're blind then," Laura chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Pamela smirked a little before a look of sorrow replaced it.

"You know you can't come right?" Laura said, appearing just as forlorn. "It's dangerous that you even know this much, but if you're around me…" Laura felt a lump growing in her throat, "I just don't want you getting caught in the crossfire."

"You think I'm just gonna sit on the sidelines while you take on both Heaven _and_ Hell?" Pamela asked incredulously.

"I'm not the Winchesters. I'm not gonna put you at risk for my own benefit," Laura said darkly.

"This is bigger than all of us. The 66 seals, Lilith, Lucifer breaking loose… they need me. Just like you're gonna need me," Pamela stated the God's honest truth.

Laura nodded her head, knowing her friend and mentor was speaking the truth, but she also knew what would happen to Pamela if she got too involved. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone dying for her, and from the looks of where this road was headed, Laura knew she would have to go it alone to keep everyone safe.

"You've sacrificed enough, Pam. I'll call you like I always do, but we both know I can't see you for a while," Laura said, trying to sound as strong as she could given the conversation. Although she could not see Pamela's eyes, she knew her dear friend was just as heartbroken.

Pamela embraced Laura tightly, and her voice cracked as she whispered: "I'm always here. You call and I'm there, you understand?"

Laura nodded her head, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to escape her eyes.

"Be safe," the young psychic's wavering voice said.

"You too. I love you, kiddo."

"I love you too, you crazy braud," Laura tried to smile as they tore themselves apart from one another.

They heard the screen door close as Bobby walked outside.

"Heard you both were leavin'. Came to say bye," he said, eyeing them both closely, for he realized he had just walked in on something.

"Actually, I'm just leaving," Pamela shook off her sadness and beamed. "And you're driving."

Bobby glanced over at Laura for help, but she simply grinned and shrugged her shoulders. Making a face, Bobby gruffly uttered: "Balls."


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys, so sorry it took so long to upload! Just got back to school so I've been extremely busy. I hope to publish a chapter or two per week, but if I fall behind, my apologies in advance! Thanks so much for the reviews and feedback, so keep em coming! Other than that, I own nothing and please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**Chapter Eight:**

The unlikely crew of companions pulled off to the side of a road in northwestern Ohio. Dean turned off the engine of his baby and he, Sam, Ruby, and Anna piled out of the Impala. They waited in the golden sunlight as Laura pushed the button to extend the roof back onto her car, before killing the ignition and hopping out of the front seat.

"Tell me why we need her again," Ruby muttered to Sam, eyeing the psychic closely. "Can't Anna just feel her own grace?"

Sam made a face, as if to tell Ruby to 'play nice'. "She got us this far," Sam said, as the young woman tied her long hair back into a low ponytail. "Besides, we don't know if Anna will be able to sense it on her own. Better safe than sorry."

Ruby crossed her arms, still scowling a bit. "So are your psychic-senses tingling or what?" she mocked Laura, who had now joined the group.

"You wanna put a muzzle on your little demonic groupie?" Laura addressed both Winchester brothers.

Dean raised his arms in defense, stating: "Whoa… she's definitely not _my_ groupie."

Sam shot his older brother a look, but Anna simply took Laura by the arm and said: "I appreciate what you're doing. Let's just try to find my grace."

Laura nodded her head, as they both led the group through the field of tall, lush grass. It was a stunning day outside: clear blue skies, a warm breeze, and the sound of chirping birds and buzzing bugs created a harmonic melody of nature.

"Do you feel anything?" Laura asked the pretty redhead walking beside her.

Anna furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head: "No, and I should by now, but I just don't."

Laura looked over at the worried woman, and said: "Be patient. You've been repressing this stuff for most of your life. It'll come back."

Anna seemed to appreciate the sentiment, but she and Laura were both equally worried that they would not locate the fallen angel's grace before Alastair or the angels caught up with them.

The five companions made their way through the scenic field, littered with flowering bushes and trees, as well as picket fences covered in vines and mossy stonewalls.

About twenty minutes had passed since they began their search throughout the fields, and the Winchesters and Ruby trailed behind, watching the two women lead the way through the knee-length grass. Everyone was growing sweaty and hot, and just as Ruby was about to say something snarky, Laura stopped dead in her tracks.

Everyone exchanged glances and then Dean spoke up: "What is it? Are we close?"

Laura's face was scrunched up with an expression of slight confusion.

"I think it's this way," she responded faintly, breaking into a light jog towards the break in a fence that was just ahead of them.

Without another word, everyone picked up their pace to catch up with the young psychic. Within moments, they were standing in front of a massive tree. It looked ancient and hauntingly beautiful as beams of golden light streamed through the breaks in its lush leaves and branches. Walking up and placing her palm on the bark of the trunk, Laura told Anna to step forward and do the same. Obediently following the brunette's instructions, the fallen angel's excited face fell.

"Something's wrong," she muttered, looking at Laura, who's face had the same disappointed expression.

"You feel it too then?" Laura inquired, as the other three companions gazed on with puzzled looks.

"Feel what?" Sam asked.

Anna turned around and addressed them all: "My grace was here… but it's gone…"

"Gone?" Dean repeated, looking between the redhead and Laura.

"Recently too," Laura added, biting her lip as she thought about who could have taken it and what their next move should be.

"Great, now that Anna can't power up, we're screwed," Ruby's normally unfazed demeanor faltered as a look of fear spread across her face.

Everyone knew that the demon's morbid words were true, and all five of them stood there in silence, searching for a way out of this mess.

* * *

"We can always just go back to the panic room," a desperate Dean Winchester suggested, earning himself a rude response from Ruby.

"And what? Wait there 'til Hell freezes over? No thank you," she folded her arms.

"It's just a thought," he defended himself as they were all squatting in some abandoned barn.

"Well leave the thinking to someone else then," she shot back with an annoyed tone.

Dean glared at her and was about to snap back, but his younger brother stepped in.

"Whoa, all right. Can we just keep the negative comments to a minimum?" Sam broke up the impending fight.

Dean huffed and sat down on a wooden bench sulkily as Ruby continued to give him a dirty look.

"We need to figure out what to do, and fast," Laura broke the silence as she rose from her secluded spot in the corner.

She had been staring out the window the entire time, contemplating how she had managed to get herself into even more trouble. Lost in thoughts of how simple her life used to be and how maddening it had become, Laura's train of thought was interrupted by the voices of angry angels.

As she perked up, she noticed Anna was clearly listening to the same message, for she appeared to be just as concentrated on the barely audible words.

After the young psychic spoke up, everyone else gave her their undivided attention.

"You hear it too?" Anna asked, staring at the young brunette in awe.

Laura nodded slowly, gazing steadily and woefully at the eldest Winchester.

"Hear what?" Dean asked, clearly worried by both the conversation at hand and Laura's expression.

"It's a loop," Laura stalled the inevitable.

"The angels gave us an ultimatum," Anna interjected. "They want you guys to hand me over or they're gonna send Dean back to Hell."

Everyone in the room was dead silent, not sure how to respond. Sam looked from Anna to his brother with wide, terrified eyes. Even Ruby appeared to be nervous, but Dean's face on the other hand remained expressionless. He stared blankly at the redhead who delivered the bad news, and she said softly: "I'm so sorry."

Without a word, he walked outside. He could barely breathe, or think for that matter. Ever since he had been rescued from the pit, Dean had been haunted by the memories of his forty years spent down there: being tortured, completely torn apart only to be put back together again, and then eventually giving in and putting others on the rack to take his place. Those last ten years were certainly the worst, and Dean Winchester knew he could never fully forgive himself for giving in and allowing himself to become such a monster. On top of that, seeing Alastair again was anything but a comfort and made the memories much stronger and more painful. Now the thought of having to sacrifice this poor girl to save himself or face being sent back to Hell had Dean's head spinning.

Lost in thought, he was pacing by the Impala, rubbing his face with his hand, and hadn't noticed Laura leaving the barn. She was heading towards her '66 Stang to get a few supplies from the trunk, but once she saw the distraught older Winchester, she knew she had to say something. She couldn't blame him for being so torn. Hell, if she were in the same position, Laura wouldn't be too confident that she could sacrifice herself for Anna. Glancing from her red car in the distance and back towards Dean, Laura sighed and walked over to him.

"Um, Dean?" she asked tentatively.

He looked up at her with a distracted and clearly upset expression: "Yeah?"

"How you holding up?" she asked, looking up at him as he was avoiding her steady, piercing gaze.

"Fine," he responded, quickly glancing down at her before staring back off into the distance.

Laura tilted her head to the side, knowing full well he was lying. The man was conflicted and terrified, and he had every right to be.

"Ruby got those hex bags ready?" he asked, changing the subject and still avoiding the blue-green eyes boring into him.

"Yeah," she responded, before continuing: "Dean, there's still hope. We _can_ save you."

"But at what cost?" he asked angrily, looking down at her with his passionate green eyes. "I'm not gonna just hand that girl over to save my own hide."

"I never said we were gonna do that," Laura tried to calm Dean down as his voice became more and more agitated. "I'm gonna grab some things and see if there's a way we can angel-proof this place… buy us more time to think of something."

"We all ready know what we need to do," he responded darkly.

Gazing up at him sympathetically, Laura placed a hand gently on his forearm: "You don't deserve to go back, Dean. No matter what you did down there, it wasn't your fault… you need to stop blaming yourself."

Jerking his arm away from her delicate fingers, Dean looked down at her with an uncomfortable and somewhat confused expression. He had no clue how she knew about what had happened in Hell, and who was she to even bring that up to him. He didn't know her, and he certainly wouldn't be sharing his sob story with the chick.

"I don't need to hear your opinion. I just need you to try to help us save this girl or get lost," he shot back coldly.

Laura was clearly offended by his rude response to her attempts at comforting him, and her caring expression was replaced by one of anger and disbelief.

Laura understood why he wouldn't want to discuss Hell with her. She got that, and even expected it, for she was similar to Dean in that manner. She kept things buried, tried to forget about them or made herself numb, and would push away anyone who cared; she would just want everyone to think she was okay and that everything was fine, and that was exactly what Dean did. Laura, however, still could not believe the man standing before her. Never in her life had she met someone so rude or ungrateful. Like Dean, Laura had plenty of shit she could use to excuse her bad manners, but she didn't. Did he think he was the only one going through crap? How quickly he forgot her saving his life and voluntarily getting herself in the middle of this mess to help them, to help Anna. Sure she wanted to figure out why should do the things she could do, but Laura honestly felt she needed to help the Winchesters clean up the mess they made… the mess that _Dean_ made.

She shook her head in incredulity, and put her hands up in surrender. With a stormy glare, she responded darkly: "Fine."

With that, she pushed past the muscular hunter and continued on her way towards her car. Dean watched on, feeling even more guilty about how unnecessarily rude he was to Laura. He hated apologizing more than anything, but before he could work up the courage to chase after the young woman now rummaging around in her trunk, Sam came outside and put a firm hand on his older brother's shoulder.

"I think I have a plan."


	9. Chapter 9

**Coming up to the big fight! Read/Review! Will post again soon, I promise! :) (p.s. I own nothing but my OC)**

**Chapter Nine:**

It had grown dark as the five companions awaited their plan to unfold. Sam had been reading a book whilst Ruby worked on some more hex bags. Laura simply sat in the dimly lit corner, polishing her weapons in silence. She was still aggravated about Dean's outburst towards her, so the young psychic decided to keep her mouth shut and wait to be rid of the lot of them. Laura was beyond frustrated and fed up with the entire situation. She had gone into this thinking she would at least get some answers to explain her mysterious powers, but not even Anna seemed to have a clue as to how or why she could do any of those things. Not only did she feel even further away from the answers she so desperately needed, Laura had become acutely aware that if either the angels or demons discovered her, she and all those she loved would be in mortal danger. She needed to learn how to control her abilities and why she even possessed them before it was too late, and the young psychic feared there wouldn't be enough time.

By the time she had begun sharpening and polishing her knives, Dean and Anna sauntered inside the barn after they spent a very long time 'talking' outside. Both of them appeared flushed, a bit disheveled, and oddly chipper given the dire situation they all found themselves in. Sam gave his older brother a disapproving glance, which Dean merely grinned at. Anna's rosy cheeks reddened even more as Ruby pointed out that her shirt was on inside out. Scurrying away, the fallen angel excused herself and disappeared in another room of the barn.

"Really, dude?" Sam muttered, eyes following Anna until she was out of sight.

"Hey, it's the chick's last night of freedom… had to do her a solid," Dean's crooked and cocky smirk spread across his still sweaty face.

"Well could you stand down-wind? You stink," Ruby muttered, getting up and moving further away from the eldest Winchester.

Dean made a face and quickly sniffed his under arm and shrugged his shoulders. Due to the brief silence, he heard the sound of blade against steel, and Dean's eyes traveled to the corner of the barn where the pretty brunette sat, sharpening her vast collection of knives.

"Has she said anything?" Dean muttered to Sam and Ruby in a low voice.

Exchanging slightly confused glances, Sam responded: "No… why?"

"Just wondering," Dean attempted to sound casual, though he had to admit, something about watching the mysterious young woman methodically clean and sharpen her weapons intimidated the seasoned hunter.

"What did you do?" Sam immediately asked, knowing his older brother all too well.

"Nothing," Dean responded in a hushed voice, hoping Laura did not hear his kid brother's words.

Ruby laughed, earning herself a dirty look from the eldest Winchester.

"Can it," he grumbled, still watching Laura intently.

"Well whatever you did, fix it," Sam commanded. "We have enough to worry about without you pissing off more people."

Dean looked at Sam with a pleading expression.

"We got angels and demons on our asses and you're more afraid of _that_ girl?" Ruby asked with an amused tone.

"Trust me, I can handle Godzilla and Mothra, but a pissed of woman…" Dean cringed.

Sam smirked knowing his brother was being completely serious and Ruby just rolled her eyes.

"Just apologize," Sam said with an amused expression as Dean eyed the girl nervously.

"No… maybe I'll just let it blow over," he thought out loud, as Anna reappeared and made her way over to them.

Noticing where they were all staring, the redhead's eyes traveled over to where Laura was seated, with an intense look of anger and concentration plastered on her delicate face.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired with furrowed brows.

"Ask him," Ruby responded with a nod over in Dean's direction.

Anna gave Dean an expectant look, as if awaiting him to explain, but instead the older Winchester brother looked down at his wristwatch and changed the subject: "It's pretty late. We should probably get some rest for tomorrow."

And with that, the eldest Winchester bid them all goodnight and made his way into another room where their makeshift beds were set up.

* * *

Screams. High-pitched blood curtailing shouts of pure agony. The terrified yells begging for mercy and help rang in Laura's ears as she ran through the dark corridor. She could barely see, barely think, barely breathe. Her mind was reeling with a way to get to them in time, but the halls seemed like an endless black labyrinth. The stench of smoke and sulfur burned the brunette's lungs, causing her to choke and sputter. She tried to shout out that she was there, that she was coming, and for them to hold on, but her throat felt as if it were on fire and only weak gasps escaped her chapped lips.

The yelling was getting louder and shriller as she finally saw a dim light at the end of the hallway. Laura's legs were heavy, but she pushed onward as fast as she could. Bursting through the door, she entered the familiar room that held so many fond childhood memories, but this time, it was home to a horrific sight. Everything was engulfed in flames and in the center of the room were the limp bodies of Laura's mother, father, and sister. She could tell immediately that her father and mother were gone as she rushed forward and unbound their bloody, charred bodies from the ceiling. They fell limply with a sickening 'thud,' but she swallowed her tears and turned to release her barely breathing sister.

Gently cradling her in her slender arms, Laura croaked: "Karen. Karen, please wake up. Karen don't leave me."

The psychic's older sister's glassy eyes fluttered open, but they were dim and close to death.

"Laura," she was crying. "It hurts. Make it stop."

Laura looked down at the mutilated body of her best friend and only sister. It was naked, singed, and she appeared to have had the skin on her belly, arms, and legs filleted off, revealing the tendons, bones, and muscles. Her stomach hitched, as Laura tried not to vomit.

"You're gonna be okay," Laura sobbed, trying to ease the hurt of her dying sister. Closing her eyes, she tried to absorb Karen's pain, but it wasn't working.

"Please. It hurts," Karen whimpered as a few tears fell from her dark brown eyes.

Laura persisted, but to no avail, and simply sat and held her older sister as she died in agony. Gripping her bloody and burned corpse, the brunette yelled out in despair: "No! Karen! No! No! Why, oh God why?"

"I told you not to fight me," came a calm and cold voice from above her.

Laura lifted her blurred eyes and saw a shadowy figure standing before her.

"Who are you?" she shouted angrily, tears still flowing freely down her ashy cheeks. "How could you do this? I'll kill you!"

A horrible cackle came from the dark figure's throat: "You dumb bitch! I will do this to everyone you've ever loved, anyone you've ever met. I'll do it because I can and I'll enjoy every second of it until you give in."

"No! I swear I'll kill you first! I'll kill you!" she screamed as loud as she could, closing her eyes in anger and sadness.

The figure's malicious laugh echoed in her head and as she opened her eyes, Laura was back at the barn, panting and sweating. She looked around, hoping to God she didn't wake anyone else up. She rose from her uncomfortable resting place on the ground and wiped a few tears from her eyes. Sam and Anna were fast asleep, but Dean and Ruby's beds were vacant. Silently making her way into the main room of the barn, she saw the eldest Winchester keeping watch out the window.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked, turning to look at her.

She thought he didn't hear her enter, so she was taken a bit by surprise.

"Not really," she mumbled, walking over to him and grabbing the bottle of whiskey he had beside him.

Dean watched the young woman as she took a few generous gulps from the bottle. Laura appeared just as exhausted as he felt, with dark bags underneath her oddly blank blue-green eyes.

Feeling uncomfortable due to Dean's intense scrutiny, Laura spoke up: "Ruby's gone."

"Yeah I figured she'd run the second she got the chance," he responded bitterly.

"You think she'll double-cross us," Laura stated, handing him the bottle as he took a swig.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he responded darkly.

Laura had heard a little bit about Ruby from Pamela. The demon had befriended Sam a year before Dean's deal was up, promising him a way to save his brother. Of course, they weren't successful and the eldest Winchester went to Hell anyway, but the demon had proven herself a good ally nonetheless. Her morals were obviously questionable, as were her true motives, but Samuel Winchester seemed to trust her every word. On the other hand, Dean wasn't too confident in their demon friend, and for good reason. Laura knew nothing positive came from working with demons, and she had a gut feeling that Ruby was doing her very best to manipulate Sam and come between the two brothers. Where she stood on the whole rising of Lucifer thing, however, was still unknown.

"She took the hex bags with her. So once I take down my protection sigils, they'll find us sooner rather than later," Laura noted grimly.

Dean nodded his head in solemn acknowledgement before answering ominously: "Let them come."

Something in the hunter's voice sent a shiver up Laura's spine. She knew that he was banking on them coming, but the idea still made her altogether uneasy. Taking the bottle once more, she took a final sip of liquid courage and walked over to the painted symbol on the barn door. Inhaling deeply, she gave Dean one final look before taking a knife and scratching some paint off. This was it. Now they just had to wait.

* * *

"She wouldn't just leave without a good reason," Sam argued the next morning.

"She's a demon, Sam… honesty isn't part of her M.O…" Dean shot back angrily.

"Ruby will come back. She always does," Sam continued to defend the demon.

"Yeah, well whatever," Dean grumbled, taking a shot of whiskey.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Anna asked with a look of concern.

As Dean responded with a witty remark, Laura watched on and couldn't help but smirk a little. Krissy would always scold the brunette for her excessive drinking at all hours of the day, and this conversation seemed so humorously familiar. The psychic's happy thoughts were short-lived, however, for in a moment's time, the barn doors burst open, as two not so friendly looking angels walked in.

"Hello, Anna. It's nice to see you again," a handsome man in a trench coat with brilliant blue eyes stated in a monotone voice.

"Wish I could say the same," she spat as Laura, Dean, and Sam stood between her and the two angels.

"Let's skip the small talk," the taller African American angel said dangerously. "Hand over the girl like we agreed."

Everyone turned to look at Dean, whom the angel was addressing. He was staring down at his feet with a torn expression.

"Dean?" Sam asked his brother with an incredulous and disappointed look.

"Anna, I'm sorry," Dean whispered, looking at her guiltily.

"What's going on?" Sam demanded.

"They gave him a choice, Sam," Anna explained, still gazing steadily up at Dean. "Turn me in or kill you. That's how their minds work," she glared at the two angels standing before them.

Turning back to look at the eldest Winchester, the redhead kissed him lightly on the lips and stated: "It's okay. You tried your hardest. I forgive you."

With that, she walked passed the three hunters and stood before the two wrathful warriors of Heaven.

"Okay. No more games. No more running. I'm ready."


	10. Chapter 10

**Some entertaining fighting is in this chapter and sets the stage for the rest of this Season 4 storyline. As usual, feedback it more than welcomed... want to see where I can improve so it's a more enjoyable story for y'all! **

**Chapter Ten:**

"I'm sorry, Anna," came the calm flat voice of the angel adorned in a trench coat.

"No you're not. You don't know what that feels like Castiel," she responded simply.

"Still. We have history, but…" he began to say, but the redhead cut him off.

"Orders are orders. I know. Let's just get this over with," she said, bowing her head in submission and hopelessness.

Just as Castiel and Uriel were about to take her with them, however, the nasally and cruel voice of Alastair was heard from behind them. The angels spun around angrily as the powerful demon appeared with a bleeding, weak Ruby and two other low-level demons at either side of him.

"Don't you lay a finger on that poor girl," he said with a small smirk.

"How dare you stand before us, you pussing sore," Uriel spat.

"Sticks and stones, you pompous douche," Alastair responded dangerously.

"Leave now," Castiel growled.

"Absolutely, but only after you give us there girl. Don't worry, we'll be sure to punish her for you," the demon's tone of amusement returned.

"You know what we're capable of. Turn around or face our wrath," the blue-eyed angel of the Lord warned fiercely.

"I'll take my chances," Alastair responded, and with that the angels and demons broke out into an intense fight.

Castiel lunged at Alastair and attempted to exorcise him as Uriel took on the two black-eyed demons. Ruby was cast aside and fell weakly to the ground.

"Ruby!" Sam rushed over to her side and helped her to her feet.

"We need to get out of here," she winced, still bleeding profusely from her wounds.

At this point a demon had cornered Anna, but Dean bashed its head with a crowbar. Thoroughly annoyed, it turned its attention onto the older Winchester and flung him across the room. Just as it was about to kick the fallen Dean in the ribs, Uriel laid his hands on the unholy entity and exorcised it with one mere touch.

As the African American angel turned his attention onto the second demon, Dean slowly tried to push himself up from the ground; he looked across the room and now saw that the tables had turned in the battle between Castiel and Alastair.

Alastair had Castiel on his knees, for his attempts to exorcise the demon proved fruitless.

"Why don't you go run home to your Daddy," Alastair mocked as he began to extract the angel from his vessel.

Dean mustered up as much energy as he could and sprang towards the white-eyed demon. Punching Alastair as hard as he could, the demon released Castiel with a new rage directed towards Dean.

"I'm so disappointed, Dean. You had so much promise," the demon hissed menacingly before assaulting him.

Sam had laid Ruby in the corner, hiding her from the fight, and had just returned to see a weak Castiel slumped on the floor, Uriel exorcising the other demon, and Alastair beating his older brother to a pulp. Laura and Sam's eyes met from across the barn. They both knew that Dean needed assistance, but Laura needed to protect Anna. Sam hurried over and tried to pull Alastair off of his brother. In a swift motion, Samuel Winchester was thrown into a support beam, cracking it.

The young psychic watched on, wishing to help the Winchesters out, but she soon had her hands full when Uriel made his way over to them.

"Step aside, girl," he commanded, after successfully exorcising the other demon.

"No way," she prepared herself for the world of pain she was about to endure.

The frightening angel smirked as he raised his hand and pushed her into the wall with an unseen force. Laura's body slammed hard into the wooden wall, and she winced in pain. He moved closer to her and lifted her by the neck over his head. The psychic gasped in pain, and after a few moments of struggling, was somehow able to move one of her delicate hands onto his face. His dark brown eyes blinked a few times as his grip loosened. Uriel seemed to be running out of breath and a pale light began to emit from his slightly opened mouth. Finally releasing her, Laura crumbled to the ground, coughing and sputtering and clutching her throat. Uriel seemed dumbfounded and tried to collect himself, though he couldn't help but stare down at the young woman with wide, confused eyes.

At this point, Sam and Dean were sprawled on the floor as Alastair advanced toward Anna, but once everyone witnessed what the young psychic had done, the entire room paused. The hiatus of fighting was brief, however, for the demon continued to rush towards the fallen angel. Noticing the weakened and distracted Uriel, the redhead leapt forward, grabbed her glowing grace from the necklace around his neck and threw it hard onto the floor. The crystal shattered, released a bright blue light, which swirled its way up to her mouth.

"No!" Uriel cried as Anna's grace was returned to her.

"Shut your eyes!" she cried as an explosion of light enveloped her and the entire barn.

In a flash, Anna and Alastair had disappeared, leaving the Winchesters, the angels, Laura, and Ruby staring at where they once stood. Castiel was on his feet now and strode over to Uriel who turned angrily on psychic.

"You!" he roared, but Dean and Sam pushed forward and stood in front of her.

"What are you waiting for?" Dean asked in a mocking tone, "Aren't you gonna get public enemy number one? Or are you scared?" Although he appeared smug, Sam could tell his brother was afraid.

Uriel's eyes darted between the Winchesters, then landed on Laura who was still panting behind them. "This isn't over," he warned them, still eyeing her with a dangerous and somewhat fearful expression.

"Looks over to me, chuckles," Dean retorted, stepping even more in front of the weakened psychic.

And with that Castiel and Uriel disappeared, leaving the four battered and bruised companions alone in the barn. Ruby slowly made her way from her spot in the corner, gripping her stomach in pain.

"You okay?" Sam asked her with a tone and expression of concern.

"Not really," she moaned.

"What took you so long?" Dean demanded angrily at how close of a call the fight was.

Ruby gave him a dirty look and responded cynically: "Sorry. I was just getting tortured the entire time…"

The demon's eyes then fell on the very quiet psychic who was now propped up against the wall. Ruby had no clue who or what this girl was, but she had never witnessed someone do what Laura had done. It made her uncomfortable.

The Winchesters noticed where Ruby was staring and looked behind them at the panting psychic. Leaning with one arm against the wall, she was hunched over and holding her hair out of her face as if she was about to get sick.

Sam helped her straighten up, asking: "Are you okay?"

He glanced nervously at his brother and Ruby, as Laura tried to steady her breathing.

"Yeah. Just dizzy," she mumbled as her head was spinning violently. "I'll be okay," she allowed herself to smile reassuringly, though she new she would probably be sick for days.

"You sure?" Sam asked again, his beautiful eyes staring hard into hers. She nodded her head weakly, as they all slowly made their way outside the barn into the morning sunlight.

"Well I gotta hand it to you, Sammy. Bringing them together like that was a damn good plan," Dean complimented his brother approvingly.

"Figured it would be best to let them fight each other and stay out of the way," Sam responded with a small grin.

"Well don't brag," Dean kidded, as they helped Laura to her cherry red convertible.

"Well at least Anna's some big-time angel now. Think she's happy?" Laura asked, still trying not to vomit.

"I doubt it," Dean responded, knowing full well from their time spent together the previous night that this was the last thing the redhead wanted.

Sam opened the car door for the brunette and tossed her bag into the backseat.

"Why don't you stick around for a while until you feel better," Sam offered with an inviting voice.

Laura smirked a bit. How were they not afraid of her? What Laura did in the barn back there had scared that crap out of her; it even seemed to frighten the angels and Ruby, so why were the Winchesters trying to comfort her? Laura didn't understand it. Clearly a girl like herself was trouble, and if the roles were reversed, she would have been a state away by now.

"I'm fine. I need to get going anyway," she dismissed herself. Just as she was about to get into the car, she paused and looked at all three of them. "Look, if you guys need a hand with anything, I'm not gonna say no," she said awkwardly. "If you really need help, you can get my number from Pam or Bobby… okay?"

Laura couldn't believe she was actually offering to be there for the Winchesters if they needed her assistance, but the brunette knew that this would not be the last time they crossed paths. For whatever reason, they seemed to be just as deep in this river of crap that she found herself in, and the way the young psychic saw it, it would be better to have some allies than none. The Winchesters were all ready involved, and knowing her couldn't possibly do them anymore harm (or so she thought).

"Same goes to you," the youngest Winchester nodded his head, extending a hand.

Laura took it tentatively and shook it with a small smirk. Her blue-green eyes then traveled over to Dean's green ones and she felt an odd feeling in her gut. He cleared his throat and thrust his hand out gruffly. Laura averted her eyes as they shook hands firmly: she was still a bit displeased with him, but hey, he was a good hunter and would maybe prove useful in the future. After a curt nod at Ruby, Laura plopped into her car and pulled away from the barn. Although she didn't want to, she stole one last glance at the three of them from the rearview mirror.

'What am I getting myself into?'


	11. Chapter 11

**Some humor and the beginnings of a team featured in this one. Let's see how long they can work well together, though! ;) Hopefully more updates soon! Enjoy!**

**Chapter Eleven: **

"People in town are saying what happened to you was a miracle. Do you believe that?" Samuel Winchester asked a middle-aged man with light brown hair sitting before him.

"I was shot in the heart at point blank range and didn't bleed a drop… so yeah, I'd say so," the man responded with a firm nod. "I mean, how else would you explain it?"

Dean and Sam watched him intently, waiting for him to continue. The slightly balding man glanced at his wife and daughter baking in the kitchen.

"Look, I wasn't the best father or husband before this whole thing, and I know this is gonna sound crazy…" he sighed, trailing off a bit.

"Try me," Dean muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat on the large, plush couch.

"I think God just wanted to give me a second chance… to make things right. You know?"

"Ugh, sure," the oldest Winchester said skeptically, causing Sam to shoot him a scolding look.

"Mr. Jenkins, you wouldn't have happened to stop by a crossroads, have you?" Sam asked, carefully reading the somewhat confused man.

"Um… no?" Jim Jenkins responded with furrowed eyebrows.

"Maybe you met someone. Probably had strange eyes… like black, or red," Sam pressed.

Mr. Jenkins folded his arms and leaned back in his chair by the living room window: "What's up with you reporters and your strange questions? Black eyes…" he muttered, frowning.

The Winchester brothers exchanged puzzled glances. Bobby had caught wind of the odd lack of deaths in this small Wyoming town a couple of days ago, and the surly old man swore that he had only told them about the possible hunt. So naturally, the boys had no clue what other hunter would have taken notice to Greybull's abundance of miracles and low death rates.

"Wait, what?" the youngest Winchester inquired, snapping Jim back into the conversation at hand.

"Some woman came here for a story for her religious website… real pretty, but asked the weirdest questions" he explained.

Immediately Sam and Dean had an intimation as to who was in town.

"Oh, yeah," Dean improvised. "Our _other _partner. Yeah, she's new," he smiled weakly.

Jim didn't seem fully convinced and asked them another question with a tone of suspicion: "What kind of website you guys runnin' anyway?"

"It's not very popular," Sam forced his own smile.

Eyeing them both closely, Mr. Jenkins paused, then asked with a tone and expression of discomfort: "Can you two go now?"

Sam and Dean immediately hopped out of their seats and rushed out the man's house with nods and words of agreement; they were just as happy to be done with the awkward encounter.

Once outside, both brothers loosened their ties and headed for the Impala parked across the street.

"You think Laura's in town?" Sam asked, walking around towards the passenger side. As he did so, he glanced back at Mr. Jenkins' house, where the still suspicious man was watching them from his window.

Dean glanced over his shoulder to where his brother was staring and quickly turned back around as they hopped into the car. Quickly starting the classic '67 Chevy, the eldest Winchester responded with raised eyebrows: "She's the only one that's constantly working the same jobs as us."

"Well if she is here, it's probably safe to say this has something to do with the 66 seals," Sam pointed out the fact that she seemed to be always popping up during such cases.

"That's comforting," Dean replied sarcastically, knowing that this job was indeed going to be way more complicated than originally anticipated.

Sam nodded in grim agreement: "Should we get her number from Bobby and give her a call?"

"All ready got it," Dean responded, feeling for his phone in his suit jacket as they drove through the town.

Sam gave his older brother an odd look: "Dude, why would you _possibly_ have her number all ready?"

"What?" Dean glanced at his brother, who was staring at him with an amused expression. "I figured we might need it," he shrugged innocently.

Sam wasn't buying it: "Ugh, yeah… sure."

"Whatever, man," Dean finally got his phone out and found Laura's number in his contacts list. He then clicked 'dial' and grinned at his younger brother: "Let's see if Miss Cleo's in town."

* * *

The black Impala pulled up into the parking lot of the local motel and Dean parked it besides the familiar '66 Mustang. As they got out of the car, the eldest Winchester couldn't help but admire the vehicle. It was in pristine condition and was so clean someone could eat off of it; he was impressed: not only did the chick have a great taste in cars, but she also knew how to take care of one, as well.

Sam knocked on the door of room number 16, and within a moment or two, the young psychic unlocked the door for them.

"Hey boys," she greeted them, stepping aside as they entered her room.

Her usually wavy brown hair was styled in loose, shiny curls, and instead of wearing skinny jeans and boots, the young woman with bright blue-green eyes was dressed in a fitted corally-peach business dress and tan heels.

"Don't you two look nice," Laura complimented their suits with a slight smirk as she walked back over into the living room.

Dean's eyes hungrily traveled from her pumps, up her long, toned legs, and rested on her firm behind as he responded: "Thanks."

Sam watched his brother blatantly check Laura out, and nudged him, but Dean merely mouthed 'wow' and walked forward to follow her into the other room. Sam shook his head, closed the door, and headed into the living room, as well.

"So how'd you know I was here?" she asked, sitting down one of the sofas.

"Jim Jenkins," Sam replied as he and his brother also took a seat.

The beautiful brunette nodded her head.

"How'd you find out about the case?" Sam inquired, though he thought he all ready knew the answer to the question.

Laura made a face; she was clearly uncomfortable being asked about her abilities.

"Did you hear them talking again? The angels?" the youngest Winchester specified what he had meant.

"No," she glanced between the two of them. "I dreamt about it, actually."

"So you can see the future too?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Listen," Laura sighed, "if you're looking for an explanation about what I can do, you're both gonna get a headache so let's just tackle one mystery at a time."

The Winchesters reluctantly set aside their great curiosity about the young woman sitting before them and agreed to comply with what she had suggested.

"What do you have so far?" Dean asked.

Laura took a case file from the coffee table and handed it to the brothers so that they could look at it: "No one's died in a week and half… people who've been on their death beds have just got up and walked out of hospice as if they're completely healed."

"Not to mention the accidents and assaults that would normally leave anyone a doornail," Dean added, flipping through the pages of the notably flawless file.

"Exactly, and I don't know about you two, but in my experience, miracles don't just happen without a price."

"So you're thinkin' demons, or some shady faith healer," Sam ventured.

"I don't know. That's where I'm stumped. There's definitely no spell work around town that I can sense and I haven't seen a demon in weeks let alone in Greybull," the brunette shook her head with furrowed brows.

"So maybe death's not in town?" Dean thought out loud, looking over at his brother.

Sam's eyes lit up in realization as Laura asked what the eldest Winchester was talking about.

"Reapers schlep souls to the other side, but if there's no reapers, no one's dying," Sam voiced his older brother's thoughts.

"So where are they?" the psychic inquired with a shrug.

"On strike? Playing nine holes?" Dean kidded.

Sam stared hard at Laura's case file and pulled out a picture of a young boy from a newspaper clipping: "I don't know, but he might."

"That kid?" Dean asked, not following.

"He was the last person to die in town," Laura said slowly as the wheels in her head were turning. "Sam's right. We should talk to him."

Dean looked between both his brother and Laura, still perplexed: "Ugh great… but how are we gonna do that?"

Laura and the youngest Winchester simply looked at one another, as smirks spread across each of their thoughtful faces: they had an idea.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey everyone! The feedback has been absolutely amazing so far! I'm so pleased to hear you're enjoying it, and it's making me even more excited and diligent about updating! Thanks so so much for the support, reviews, and suggestions! And again, I own nothing besides my OC. Sooooo enjoy!**

**Chapter Twelve:**

The Winchesters and their young psychic ally had decided that they needed to figure out where the reapers had gone, and fast. Laura had a feeling that it was connected with the breaking of another seal, and the brothers agreed, though for the life of them all, they couldn't think of why keeping humans from dying was part of Lilith's agenda.

Since contacting a spirit directly was a simple enough task, especially at their sight of burial, Laura gave both Sam and Dean a summoning ritual to perform at the grave of the young boy. Whilst they did that, the brunette would try her best to listen in on 'angel radio' as Dean called it; she also decided that putting herself into a meditative state would help her open up to any supernatural disturbances going on in the small Wyoming town, which in turn would hopefully pinpoint where the reapers were.

Though they weren't fans of splitting up, the Winchester brothers begrudgingly agreed to Laura's plan under the condition that she remain in her room during the little meditation session. And that is exactly how Sam and Dean Winchester found themselves in the Greybull cemetery staring at the gravestone of the late 12-year-old Cole Griffith.

"Think this will work?" Dean asked, skimming the ritual as his brother set up a cloth pentagram with candles on the gravesite.

"She seems to know what she's talkin' about," Sam answered his older brother without looking up from what he was doing.

"Yeah," Dean said, his mind trailing off. "What do you think of her?"

"You mean Laura?" Sam asked, glancing up at his brother. "She seems nice."

"You're not even a little bit curious?" Dean pressed, raising his eyebrows.

Sam sighed and stopped setting up for the ritual: "Sure I am, but Laura doesn't seem like the spill-your-guts type."

"And since when do you just accept that?" the eldest Winchester inquired with a tone as if it were hard to believe.

"I just don't wanna make her feel more like a freak than she probably all ready does," Sam said honestly.

"But she is one… look what she can do!" Dean laughed a bit in disbelief.

"Dude, like we should talk. You've been to Hell and I have demon blood in me," Sam pointed out.

Dean had to agree that they were both the poster-boys of the weird, but still… this girl came out of nowhere and was capable of doing things that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Sam went back to setting up the grave for the ritual and asked his older brother: "You gonna help me with this or what?"

Dean sighed and rose from his seat, and as he walked over to his baby brother, he said thoughtfully: "She's is hot though…"

Sam chuckled at Dean, but the cemetery's caretaker soon interrupted their light-hearted moment.

"What the Hell is going on here?" he asked angrily, shining a flashlight in their faces.

"Um, take it easy," Sam said, arms up in surrender as he and his brother backed away from Cole's tombstone.

The man looked at the grave with wide eyes: "Is this devil-worship?"

"No, it's not what it looks like," Dean stumbled over his words, searching for a better explanation. "Ugh, Sam, care to explain?"

An uneasy Sam tried to dismiss them: "We're just gonna leave…"

The caretaker's livid expression melted away into an odd, demented smile: "You boys aren't going anywhere."

The Winchesters exchanged uncertain glances as the man standing before them took a step forward. As he did so, the caretaker's eyes turned a ghostly white.

"Alastair," Dean growled. "Thought you were deep-fried extra crispy."

"Just my meat suit," the demon said casually. "His family's still looking for him… it's hilarious. But unfortunately I gotta cut this chitchat short… got a big date with death."

As he said this, he flicked his wrist, sending the eldest Winchester sailing a couple yards away and bashing his head into a gravestone.

"Dean!" Sam cried, as the white-eyed torturer of Hell stepped towards him again.

Alastair tried to fling Sam as well, but nothing happened: "You're stronger than last time. Have you been bo-flexing with your little whore?"

"You can say that," Sam grinned a bit, pushing his arm forward and throwing Alastair across the graveyard.

Before Sam could do anything else, the demon smoked out of the caretaker's body, and the youngest Winchester just stood there and watched as the black smoke disappeared into the night.

* * *

"Dude, I told you… he tried to fling me or whatever, it didn't work, so he bailed," Sam explained in an annoyed tone (as if Dean had asked him a number of times about the narrow escape).

Dean did not look thoroughly convinced, but he was holding his now throbbing head and was too concussed to argue.

"Sam if you're gonna keep your secrets, I can't stop you, but don't act like I'm stupid," the eldest Winchester glared at his brother, grumpily wiping dried blood off his hairline.

"I'm not keeping secrets, Dean," Sam continued to clearly lie as he pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot.

"Whatever you say, Sammy," he groaned, pulling his sore body out of the passenger's door. "But if Alastair's on the loose, we gotta get Laura."

Sam nodded his head in agreement, feeling slightly relieved that Laura was around to distract his brother from the current interrogation.

The Winchesters strode to room number 16 and burst through the door. Laura was lying peacefully on the bed in what appeared to be restful slumber, except for the fact that there were lit candles all around her.

"Here we are getting our asses kicked and she's taking a nap," Dean grumbled plopping down on the couch, still holding his head.

Sam smirked a bit and walked over to her. Noticing her laptop was open, the youngest Winchester's curiosity got the better of him, so he began to read what was minimized on her desktop. As he read, his brown eyes widened and called to his brother with an alarmed tone.

"Dean… I think we have a problem…"

The eldest Winchester was going to say something snarky in return, but upon seeing Sammy's face, he immediately rose from his seat to see what had his kid brother so freaked.

"She figured it out," Sam mumbled, turning back to the laptop's screen.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dean asked, feeling a bit dizzy from getting up too quickly.

"And he bloodied death under the newborn sky, sweet to taste but bitter once devoured," Sam recited the words, turning the screen so that his brother could look.

Dean stared blankly at the MacBook, prompting his brother to explain: "Basically it means if you kill a reaper under the solstice moon, you break a seal..."

"So the demons kidnapped the local reapers. How much time do we have?" Dean inquired, looking up at his brother from the screen.

Sam looked grimly back at his older brother and answered: "The solstice moon's tomorrow night."

"24 hours… we've pulled off more in less time," Dean tried to sound hopeful, but even he was beginning to feel the urgency of the situation.

"We should wake her up," Sam said, thinking that she should have at least heard _something_ by now.

Dean nodded as he sat on the edge of the bed and called her name. When the young woman didn't respond, he repeated himself more loudly and with more force. Still, she did not react, so he looked at his brother with uncertainty.

"Are we supposed to touch her when she's like this?" he asked, but Sam merely shrugged.

"Can't hurt, can it?" the youngest Winchester mused aloud, so Dean lightly tapped her.

Laura didn't budge, so Dean nudged her a bit harder. When she didn't even remotely stir, they each became extremely nervous.

"Laura, snap out of it!" Dean said, now shaking her violently.

The brunette's body was limp and almost lifeless.

"Laura!" Dean continued to shake her, as an equally distressed Sam rushed over.

Reaching to feel her pulse, Sam also called her name, and then said: "She's alive…"

"Then why won't she wake up, Sam?" Dean cried, looking at his brother helplessly. "If Alastair did anything to her…" he growled, still shaking Laura's bare shoulders.

"He couldn't have gotten in here, Dean," Sam was thinking out loud and as fast as he could. They had put devil's traps at every entrance and window, as well as salted the entire room. It wasn't possible that the demon attacked her, so then what was going on?

"Then explain why she isn't waking up!" Dean demanded, frantically looking at Sam.

Sam should his head with a horrified and worried expression: "I don't know."

"Well we need to do something!"

"I'm calling for help," Sam immediately rose and ran to his get his cellphone. "Hello, Pamela? It's Sam…"

* * *

By the next morning there was a heavy banging on the motel door. The second Dean had unlocked the deadbolt Pamela rushed in. The Winchesters had never seen her so upset. She frantically made her way over to Laura, and although her large black sunglasses covered up most of her face, they could see just how worried the psychic was about her young friend.

"Get me a chair. Now," she commanded, throwing off her black biker jacket.

Sam got one right away and set it beside the comatose brunette still lying on the bed: "Here," he said, helping her to the seat.

Once she sat down, Pamela took Laura's cold hand into her own and tried to steady her own breathing.

"Dammit, Laura," she muttered to herself angrily, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Sam inquired, as he and his brother watched on earnestly.

"She knew better than to do this alone…" Pamela continued to mumble furiously.

"Pamela, what's going on?" Dean practically demanded, breaking the psychic's train of thought.

"Her body is alive, but it's just an empty vessel right now… her soul's somewhere else," she tried to explain, but the Winchesters were still a bit confused.

"Come again?" Dean asked for both himself and Sam.

"Laura found out about Alastair's plan to sacrifice the reapers right?" Pamela inquired impatiently.

The boys nodded and Sam responded: "Yeah, why?"

"Damn girl's a near genius, but Lord does she not think things through…" Pamela then began muttering again, gripping her dear friend's graceful hand tightly.

"Would you mind explaining what the Hell you're talking about?" Dean barked.

"Watch your tone with me, Dean," she snapped back at him, causing the eldest Winchester to timidly back down. She knew he was just as concerned about Laura as she was, so Pamela then softened up a bit and continued: "The only way to stop that demon bastard from breaking the seal is the rescue the reapers, and the only way for her to do that was by separating her soul from her body."

"You mean like astral projection," Sam thought out loud.

Pamela nodded her head.

"But why would she need to do that?" the youngest Winchester asked.

"Reapers aren't visible to those in the physical world," she began to explain, but Dean soon interjected.

"But I thought only ghosts can see them," he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Not exactly," Pamela stated. "Any soul detached from its body is capable of wandering the spirit realm…"

"And therefore able to see reapers," Sam finished her sentence; suddenly he and his brother fully understood why Laura had a pulse but seemed to in a coma.

"Problem is, astral projection is dangerous to mess with without an anchor," the psychic said, now looking back towards Laura.

"An anchor?" the brothers asked in unison.

"Someone to serve as a life line to help her find her way back to her body… she's traveling alone in the spirit world, and if anything happens to her body, she'd have no clue or way back to our world… she could become lost there forever," Pamela's voice was shaking a bit.

"Can't you just call her back or something?" Dean inquired, shaking his head a bit.

"No… she's too far away…" Pamela shook her head as she ran an anxious hand through her curly jet-black hair.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks of both worry and guilt. They knew they shouldn't have left the young woman alone, and now look what had happened; Laura was wondering around, single-handedly trying to prevent the demons from breaking another seal, and was risking everything to do so.

"There has to be something we can do," Sam said in frustration.

As the words left his lips, Pamela's head snapped back up and she turned to face them both.

"Actually, now that I think about it… there is…" she paused, sighed and continued: "You boys are gonna have to go after her."

"Go after her? We don't know how to astral project, Pamela!" Sam pointed out, questioning the psychic's reasoning.

"Hey, I'd be _way_ more comfortable going after her myself, but then who would be the anchor?" she folded her arms sternly. "No, our only option is for you two Stooges to go find Curly while I'm stuck here hoping you can keep my best friend alive."

Though Sam and Dean were not looking forward to trekking around in the land of the dead, they knew that Pamela was right. They needed to help Laura stop Alastair from breaking another seal, and more importantly, they needed to make sure the selfless brunette would be able to make it back from her foolhardy journey. Taking a deep breath, they both nodded in accord, and Dean stated firmly: "Just tell us what to do."


	13. Chapter 13

**I only own my OC; the rest belongs to the wonderful Eric Kripke! Read/Review, and will have the conclusion to their recent predicament soon! Thanks!**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Sam and Dean Winchester were wondering around the town. Everything appeared to be normal: cars were on the roads, people were going about their daily lives, and animals were scampering around. The only noticeable difference was that the sky was an odd shade of gray and the rest of the visible ghost world the two hunters found themselves in was in a somewhat bluish smoky haze.

They had been walking for a while, for Dean was growing very impatient; even Sam appeared restless.

"Dude, we've been out here for hours. Why couldn't Laura have just left behind the kid's address," Dean groaned, as they continued to walk down the sidewalk.

Sam turned to respond to his grumpy brother, but as he did so, a female jogger ran right through him. Sam and Dean both stopped in their tracks and looked at each other in bewilderment. Dean turned briefly to check her out and them quickly turned his attention back his wide-eyed younger brother.

"That's nuts," Dean grinned, though Sammy didn't seem quite as entertained.

Sticking his arm into his younger brother's stomach, the eldest Winchester chuckled in amusement.

"Dude, get out of me," Sam scolded, looking down at his older brother.

Pulling his arm back as his grin faded, the oldest Winchester pouted: "Such a prude."

"Well that was uncomfortable," came the familiar giggle of their brunette companion.

Sam and Dean's heads snapped up as they saw Laura standing before them with her hand on her hips. She appeared just as she did when they left her: same dress, luscious curls, heels, and completely unscathed; for whatever reason, they pictured to see her to be more… ghostlike, but then again, maybe in this world, spirits looked like normal people, too.

"How long were you standing there?" Sam asked weakly, as he and his brother tried to appear as casual as possible.

"Long enough," she grinned, cocking her head to the side. As she did so, they noticed a small boy standing directly behind her, as if hiding.

Both Winchesters looked from her to the young dark haired child, and seeing where their gaze had gone, she stepped slightly to the side.

Still behind Laura, the boy popped his head out from behind her, his dark almost black eyes gazing steadily at the two men before him.

The Winchesters recognized who the child was. Laura had found Cole Griffith.

* * *

The Winchesters, Laura, and Cole were sitting inside his living room. Apparently they had been outside his house when the kid spotted them and alerted Laura.

"They always tell you to be careful when it's cold out," Cole retold how he had passed away.

"Cold air causes asthma attacks?" Sam inquired.

Cole nodded his head and shrugged: "It happened so fast. By the time I tried to call my mom I could barely breathe. Then everything got fuzzy and the next thing I knew I was standing over my own body."

"Tell them what you saw next," Laura said softly; she had heard this story before and wanted the Winchesters to know what had happened.

"I saw some creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but…" Cole trailed off.

"You didn't want to?" Dean asked, assuming that was the reason.

"I couldn't," Cole corrected the shorter hunter.

Sam and Dean appeared confused and after glancing at one another they looked at Laura for an answer.

"Why wouldn't a reaper be able to… well… reap?" Dean thought out loud.

"The black smoke came and took him away," the young boy explained.

"And the black smoke left you alone?" Sam asked in surprise.

"I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone."

Sam and Dean looked from the boy to Laura, who then spoke up: "And Cole was about to tell me where it went when you two showed up. By the way, how _did_ you two get here?" Laura asked suspiciously, but as she did so the lights began to flicker again.

Everyone looked around wildly and Cole said timidly: "They're back."

"Who's back?" Dean asked, somewhat alarmed, as did Sam.

Laura on the other hand seemed calm: "Another reaper. It's okay, Cole." As she said this, she took his hand into hers, and the brothers looked on thoroughly confused about how she could physically touch the child.

Before anything else could be said, however, a new figure stood before them. She was much younger and prettier than the last reaper Dean had seen. Her short, straight black hair framed her porcelain face, as steady, large gray eyes stared back at the four souls before her. She didn't wear the usual black suit, for she had on a dark navy blouse and blue jeans with boots and a brown jacket. She appeared like a normal person.

"Hello, Dean," she said steadily, as everyone now turned their attention onto the thoroughly confused eldest Winchester.

"Do I know you?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

A small smirk appeared at the corner of her plump lips: "We go way back."

Dean still appeared lost, as did Sam, Laura, and Cole.

"You don't remember me, do you?" the oddly attractive reaper inquired.

"Lady, if I had a nickel for every time some chick said that to me," Dean responded seriously.

In a split-second she suddenly appeared right in front of him. The reaper then reached a hand up and touched his face. A flood of memories surged from her hand to Dean's mind as he recollected the time he spent with the female reaper. He was in the hospital, close to death after the accident the Winchesters had with their late father a couple of years back. He recalled not wanting to move on to the other side, their intimate kiss, and as more and more memories kept flooding his mind, she pulled her hand away.

Dean's eyes were wide as he gazed down at her: "Tessa?"

"Yes, that's one of my names," she said taking a few steps back.

"So you know her?" Sam asked the obvious.

"She was from the hospital after our accident with dad," Dean said, glancing at his brother.

"She was the reaper that came after you?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, and this was a nice stroll down memory lane, but I have work to do," Tessa said simply, now looking towards Laura and Cole.

"Wait, wait, wait, you can't take the kid right now," Dean said as he and his brother cut her off before she reached the psychic and young boy.

"Why?" she inquired lazily, still intently watching Cole.

"Cause demons are in town and they all ready snatched your other reaper pal," Sam explained, "And the kid can tell us where they went."

"Your little angel-demon dance off doesn't concern me. This town is off the rails and it's my job to set it right, starting with the boy," she responded pushing past them.

"Wait, I know you're just doing your job, but this affects you too," Laura said calmly standing between Tessa and Cole. "The demons took your friend, and they're gonna take you too. Let Cole help us find out where they went so we can fix this," she said evenly and calmly.

The female reaper simply stared at the brunette in front of her. After a moment or two of quiet contemplation Tessa spoke: "I'll give you some time to talk with him, but once I starting reaping again, I'm starting with the child."

Cole was trembling behind Laura, and after Tessa had agreed to let them do their job, Laura turned around and knelt before the young boy.

"It's okay, Cole. You said you were ready right?" she asked. The boy nodded slowly, so they young psychic continued: "The hardest part's over. Moving on isn't painful; it's actually peaceful, and warm. You're family is going to be fine, and so are you," she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Sam and Dean watched on, not sure how they felt about Laura coaxing the child into going with Tessa. Yes, that was how the natural order went, but maybe since the Winchesters were so used to cheating death themselves, they felt everyone should be able to do so, as well.

Cole looked between Laura and Tessa, and then glanced up at the hunters: "I saw the black smoke at my funeral."

"In the cemetery?" Sam inquired, but the child shook his head.

"The funeral home… it was everywhere," he said, now turning to look at Laura.

Tessa moved forward, preparing to bring the boy into the light, as Laura gave him a tight hug and whispered: "Don't be afraid."

As Laura stood up and Tessa extended her arm towards the young boy, the lights began to flicker. Everyone looked around and Dean asked the reaper: "You doing that?"

Shaking her head 'no,' the doors of the house flew open and a mass of black smoke filled the entire room. Everyone ducked as it flew wildly over them, and when it had finally disappeared, everyone stood back up and looked around, only to find that Tessa had been taken.

"Tessa!" Dean called out, as Laura made sure Cole was okay.

"How the Hell are we supposed to fight _that_?" Sam asked, feeling anything but optimistic over their chances of stopping Alastair by that evening.

Laura and Cole seemed to smirk a bit, as the young boy said: "I can teach you a few tricks."


	14. Chapter 14

**WARNING: this is a sad chapter. That being said, this will be a catalyst for my OC's character development. Thank you all for the lovely reviews and support, though, so keep it coming. It really means a lot! Well, nothing else to say, soooo read on! **

**Chapter Fourteen:**

The Winchesters and Laura were standing outside the funeral home, which was covered in strange bluish-white symbols. As some pedestrians walked by, not only did they take no notice to the three ghostly companions, they didn't seem to take note of the strange glowing drawings all over the building.

"Guess we're the only ones who can see it," Dean muttered.

"Wonder what it's for," Sam scratched the back of his neck.

Laura was staring hard at the symbols, with her head tilted to the side and as she thought harder. The drawings seemed familiar, and she had an intimation as to what they were used for.

"I think it's to keep something out," she furrowed her eyebrows.

Both brothers turned to look at her.

"You can read that?" Sam asked in amazement.

Laura shook her head: "Not really, but I feel like I've seen it before."

"Well do you know if it'll keep us out?" the youngest Winchester stated his worry that they would not be able to get into the funeral home.

"I guess we'll find out," she stated, taking the lead as they made their way towards large building.

The three companions walked through the dimly lit corridors, and a familiar floral scent filled their nostrils. Having spent a lot of time in hospitals and attending the funerals of loved ones throughout her childhood, Laura had always hated flowers for one reason: they reminded her of death. As the slender brunette pushed away her feelings of homesickness, she and the Winchesters soon found themselves in a massive room. All of the furniture was cleared out and a massive ritualistic symbol was drawn on the floor. As they made their way closer to the center of the room, they saw an unconscious Tessa and elderly male reaper lying directly in the middle of the square sigil.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks once they spotted two men, presumably demons, standing guard of the soon-to-be-sacrificed reapers. A cocky and excited grin spread across the eldest Winchester's face as he whispered to both Sam and Laura: "Watch this."

With that, he vanished and suddenly materialized behind the closest demon. Tapping the burly man on the shoulder, Dean disappeared once he turned around. The demon stared hard into the empty space before turning back around, and once he did, he received a hard punch to the face. The demon snarled and took a swing at the smirking eldest Winchester, but missed as Dean evaporated once again.

By this time the other guard had realized what was going on and ran over to help his fellow demon. As he rushed over, he was met with a swift punch from the recently materialized Sam Winchester. As both the brothers occupied to two guards, Laura hurried over to the sigil tried to find a way to break it. Grabbing a metal flagpole from the corner of the room, she ran forward with the intent to use it to break the ritual square, but was interrupted by a tall, lanky man.

Gripping an iron chain, he grinned wickedly as his eyes rolled white. Laura's brilliant blue-green eyes widened and as she was about to call to Sam and Dean, she realized that they too, were being cornered by the demons now wielding iron chains. Though their hands sizzled and burned, the demons pushed the three ghostly hunters in the corner and trapped them behind the manacles.

"Hiya boys. Find the place okay?" the white eyed demon asked with an amused expression.

The burly demon to Alastair's left handed him a shotgun, which the high inquisitor of Hell raised up and then shot the loaded round of rock salt into Dean Winchester's gut. The eldest Winchester disintegrated with a grunt, as Sam glared at the demon and Laura shouted: "Dean!"

"Rock salt's not so fun anymore, is it?" the demon hissed in his nasally voice.

Dean then reappeared, panting and holding his stomach. Laura helped him up with a concerned look, but he brushed it off, groaning that he was fine.

"You son of a bitch," Dean spat, standing upright.

Alastair barely paid attention to the older hunter, for his gaze remained on the taller hunter.

"Come on, Sammy, try some of that mojo on me now," he mocked, "Oh wait… doesn't work without your meat suit does it?"

Sam glared at the demon and growled: "Go to Hell."

"Trust me, I wish I could go back, but they keep sending me up to this craphole," Alastair sighed.

"To sacrifice two reapers and break another seal?" Laura asked darkly.

The white-eyed demon finally took notice to the female standing with the Winchesters. A crooked grin spread across his menacing face: "Well hello there, gorgeous. Have we met before?"

Sam and Dean both protectively stepped in front of the brunette, but Alastair pumped the shotgun, this time aiming it at the youngest Winchester. With a bang, Sam disappeared, leaving a fuming Dean and Laura trapped behind the iron chains.

"Ah, yes," he answered his own question. "You were at the barn. Quite a fascinating little thing aren't you?" The demon circled around them and got as close to Laura's face as possible. "Even Lilith is interested in you… actually wants me to spend some quality time with you… to you know, to see what makes you tick."

"Stay away from her," Dean snarled, earning himself an amused laugh from the powerful demon.

"Ah, I've been neglecting your friend," Alastair excused himself from the threatening conversation with Laura. "It's good to see you again, too, Dean," the demon grinned, as he raised the gun and aimed it at him.

"Shoot us all you want, but you can't kill us," the young psychic smiled sarcastically.

As Sam reappeared, Alastair responded smugly: "Don't be so sure about that. I mean three comatose bodies guarded by a blind woman? Doesn't seem too secure."

Laura's face dropped as she looked between both Sam and Dean.

"You brought Pamela into this?" Laura glared at them both.

The Winchesters didn't quite know how to respond, for they didn't understand why the young woman was so disturbed that the psychic had been involved.

"We couldn't wake you up," Dean tripped over his words. "We needed to come after you."

"Are you really that dumb?" Laura snapped angrily as both brothers tried to think of a way to ease her mind.

Alastair, on the other hand, was extremely entertained at the events unfolding before him.

"Touchy subject, huh?" he smirked.

"Can it," Dean growled, earning himself another shot of rock salt to the chest.

"I swear if you hurt her," Laura hissed between her teeth with a dark and threatening expression.

"You'll what? Send me back to Hell? Please, do," the white-eyed demon practically cooed.

Dean reappeared as the demon changed the subject: "But anyhoo, I think it's time to get started, don't you?"

Holding a scythe up, he cheerfully walked into the ritual square and yanked the elderly reaper up onto his knees. Before reciting the incantation, the demon acknowledged the irony in his weapon of choice: "Pretty suiting, doncha think?"

And after a quick wink, he said the words and slit the neck of the male reaper; rather than blood coming from his fatally wounded neck, a bright yellow light burst out instead and then faded.

Throughout this entire thing, Laura's mind was reeling over the mortal danger Pamela probably found herself in. The young psychic had been dreaming about her closest friend's death since they had said their farewells. Laura had decided not to involve Pamela in any of her dangerous endeavors, even if having her mentor's counsel would be beneficial to her. The brunette consciously chose to astral project without an anchor with the soul purpose to keep Pamela safe and to avoid her dreams from becoming a reality, but yet again, the Winchesters just _had_ to step in. Laura never cared if she would have been stuck in the spirit realm if it meant saving Pamela's life, but now, it seemed all that she had been dreading was unfolding before her. Laura needed to escape the iron chains; she needed to save Pam.

As Alastair grabbed the now struggling Tessa, Sam noticed a chandelier above the demon and reaper. He nudged his brother and both of them looked up; the Winchesters then began focusing all of their energy on unhinging it from the ceiling. As Alastair was just about to kill Tessa, Sam and Dean had successfully caused the chandelier to come crashing down, breaking the sigil, and releasing the reaper. As Tessa disappeared, an angry and bewildered Alastair cried out, but before he could direct his wrath onto the three, trapped hunters, the beautiful reaper reappeared and let them out from behind the iron chains.

"Bye," Dean smugly said, and all four of them vanished.

As they reappeared outside the funeral home, the three companions realized that Laura was gone.

"Where did she go?" Sam inquired.

"Probably to go find Pamela," Dean responded; he could tell the striking brunette was beyond distressed, and although he didn't know why, he had a strange feeling that Laura had a good reason for leaving them behind.

"We should get out of here," Sam suggested, for the enraged demon would surely be behind them at any second.

* * *

Laura gasped as her eyes popped open and refocused on the white, peeling ceiling of her motel room. She shot up from her spot on the bed, and looked around wildly, only to find Pamela trying to whisper something in Sam's ear as a tall, muscular man was getting up from the corner where he had been apparently knocked over.

"Pam!" Laura cried, rushing over, but was flung out of the way by the now black-eyed man. She slammed into the kitchen counter and cabinets with a crash, but shook of the painful blow as she rose to her feet. The demon was now on top of Pamela and had torn her away from Samuel Winchester's unconscious body. By the time Laura had lunged forward and forced the malevolent being off of her best friend and mentor, he had stabbed the black-haired psychic in the gut.

"No!" Laura shouted, punching the demon repeatedly in the face.

He gripped her by the neck and head-butted her in the face as Pamela crawled back to Sam, the knife still embedded in her stomach.

"Vis, vis, vis!" Pamela said hoarsely in Sam's ear, and with that, the youngest Winchester sprang up.

Somewhat dazed and confused, the tall hunter looked around and spotted Laura being attacked by the massive demon.

In a swift motion of his hand, he forced the demon off of the bleeding brunette. As he closed his hand into a fist, the demon smoked out of the man it was possessing; the black smoke billowed onto the floor around his feet and disappeared into the ground with a fiery flash of light.

Sam dashed over to Laura as she slowly picked herself up off the floor, but she shoved him away. Running over to Pamela, she took no notice of her most likely cracked ribs, split lip, and bruised forehead. Laura fell to her knees and helped prop her the black-haired psychic up against the bed. Laura felt her eyes burning as she gazed at Pamela's wound, which was hemorrhaging blood.

As Pamela tried to yank the blade out, Laura slapped her hand away.

"Don't! You'll bleed out," the brunette's eyes searched the room for anything she could use to stop the bleeding and close the wound.

"I guess you saved the reapers," Pamela smiled weakly, coughing a bit as some blood splattered out from her mouth.

Sam was staring down at their dying friend with a helpless expression, and now he understood why Laura was so upset once she had found out they had gotten Pamela involved. Laura's heartbroken face turned to look up at the youngest Winchester and she demanded that he look for alcohol and something to stop the bleeding.

Without a word, he did as he was told and soon handed Laura a massive towel from the bathroom and a handle of vodka. Tentatively pulling the knife out, she dumped some of the alcohol on the wound and quickly applied pressure to Pamela's profusely bleeding stomach.

Pamela grunted and tried to get up, but Laura forced her back down.

"You need to rest," Laura commanded her mentor.

"I need to wake Dean up," Pamela protested, trying to fight her friend.

Pamela was barely strong enough to speak let alone get up and bring Dean back to the land of the living, and although Laura was furious at the Winchesters for possibly causing the death of her best friend, she knew that the eldest Winchester needed to be woken up.

"Sam, get your ass over her and try to slow down this bleeding," Laura barked.

He did so, still watching the frantic Laura and quickly fading Pamela with melancholy eyes. Laura knelt beside the restful Dean and whispered the words in a shaking voice. The moment she finished the incantation, she turned her attention to finding the sewing kit in her bag, not giving a rat's ass about whether or not the eldest Winchester had awoken.

Dean groggily groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His calm disposition drastically changed, however, once he saw his brother hovering over the young psychic, who was now back to tending over the mortally wounded Pamela.

"Pamela! What happened?" Dean almost demanded, looking at his brother.

Sam tried to give his brother a look of warning, but it was too late. Laura turned to glance furiously at Dean: "You happened! That's what!"

"Laura," Pamela tried to calm her friend, but began coughing some more.

"Will you shut up and rest and let me stitch you up?" Laura snapped, slowly pulling the saturated towel from the psychic's abdomen.

An immense amount of thick, dark blood oozed from the wound and Laura felt a lump growing in her throat.

Pamela laughed amidst her coughing up blood: "Ha! You can't patch this one up kiddo."

"Always so negative," Laura tried to sound lighthearted and reassuring, but Pamela grabbed Laura's blood-soaked hand.

"This is it, babe. You know it and I know it. So how about you give me some of that bottom-shelf vodka," Pamela grinned faintly.

Laura couldn't even turn to look at the Winchesters, but said darkly: "Give it to her."

Sam looked from the dying psychic, to his brother, and then at the bottle in his hand. Handing it reverently to Pamela, she took a gluttonous gulp from the bottle.

"You're a real dumbass. What were you thinking crossing the veil alone?" Pamela scolded her young friend.

Laura's eyes burned with tears she would not let escape.

"You know exactly why I didn't call you," Laura responded, as the lump in her throat grew bigger and bigger.

"Oh yeah. That stupid dream you've been having… guess it wasn't all crap huh?" Pamela chuckled. She then began choking a bit, as more and more blood escaped her panting mouth.

"You shouldn't have come," Laura almost whispered, shaking her head. This was all her fault.

"I knew the risks the second I met you, but I'd be damned if I just stood by and let anything happen to you," Pamela had an odd amount of strength behind her words for a dying woman.

"Why? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me, Pam? What am I supposed to do without you?" Laura's voice cracked as tears began to run down her cheeks.

Pamela squeezed her hand tightly: "You're my family, that's why. You would do the same for me."

Laura sobbed as Pamela pulled her into a final embrace and whispered: "I'm never gonna leave you, Laur. I'll always be with you."

Laura nodded her head into her best friend's shoulder.

"You're strong, and I'm so proud of you," Pamela smirked and breathed faintly, "I love you."

Weeping, Laura felt her best friend's body go limp in her arms, and in that moment she knew nothing could ever be the same again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay, so one, this is a long chapter and I apologize. I just didn't know where to stop! Two, these few chapters are all my own creation... figured I'd throw in a random hunt to break up the apocalyptic gloom and help push some character/relationship development. Also, the reviews are AWESOME! Thank you all so much! In regards to Pamela's death, don't worry guys, Laura's psychic remember? ;) You know what that means... (hint, hint: Pamela won't be completely out of the picture!) So the usual: I own nothing, Supernatural is amazing, read/review/enjoy...**

**Chapter Fifteen: **

"Any luck?" Samuel Winchester asked as Bobby Singer hung up the telephone. The Winchesters were sitting in the familiar South Dakota home's kitchen, sipping on bottles of beer after the very small, very emotional burial of Pamela Barnes.

"No," Bobby shook his head nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"So she skipped town to go on a hunt… I would too if I just watched my best friend die," Dean said almost apathetically. He did not know why Bobby was so worked up about Laura missing Pamela's funeral. The eldest Winchester handled death the exact same way: he ignored it and used those negative emotions to kick ass in the next case he could find.

"That's the problem," Bobby sighed, taking a seat next to them.

"Why you so worried, Bobby?" Sam asked, honestly wanting an explanation for he, too, was a bit lost.

"Lee Chambers called since he couldn't make the funeral. He had been trying to get a hold of Laura since he heard about Pamela's passin' and well, he hasn't been able to," Bobby sort of trailed off, sipping his own beer.

"So he called you to see if she was with you," Sam thought out loud.

"Sorta. Just wanted to see if I even heard from her is all. But I told him, the last thing that girl said to me was about some nest over in Illinois," the older hunter replied.

"So what's the big deal about gankin' some fangs?" Dean inquired while taking a massive bite out of his burger.

"Well I didn't think much of it at the time, but Lee sure did. He near strangled me through the telephone for lettin' her go out there in her condition."

"As I said, she's a hunter. What did he expect?" Dean asked again with a mouthful of half-chewed food.

"Laura's not like you, Dean. She doesn't hunt out of revenge… she's not bitter or angry. She just wants to protect the ones she loves and help people… and her missin' Pamela's burial to go kill somethin' doesn't seem like the best thing for her," Bobby responded honestly.

Everyone was silent for a moment or two, not sure how to respond to the fact that this mysterious psychic wasn't fueled by the same path of vengeance that every other hunter they had come across was. She was different, altruistic even.

"How'd she survive this long with _that_ attitude?" Dean scoffed a bit, washing down his now dry mouth with a few gulps of beer.

"She's only been on the job for about a year and a half," Bobby mumbled, feeling stupid for letting her go after such a large nest alone.

"A year and a half?" Sam asked incredulously. "Can you see what she can do? She couldn't have learned all that in a year in a half…"

"That's part of why she started hunting. She left home after some nightmares about her family dyin' and hit the road. Met Lee and Krissy after a month or two and they showed her the ropes and got her set up… that sorta thing… Even called me to fix up that Stang for her," Bobby scratched his beard.

A light bulb immediately went off in Dean's head. That's how she knew Bobby all ready… he was the guy in South Dakota that owned the junkyard.

"Once her powers got too strong to control, that's when they introduced her to Pamela," Mr. Singer continued to explain.

"Come to think of it, she didn't really go head on after those witches during the Samhain thing," Sam mused aloud.

Bobby nodded: "She never liked to take any life unless it was necessary, and now that she's rushin' to go kill an entire nest of vampires by herself, well it can't mean anythin' good."

"So why doesn't Lee go after her himself?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

"She made him promise to stay away from her," Bobby leaned back in his chair sadly.

"So Laura has no one?" Sam asked, feeling sorry for their psychic acquaintance.

"Not if she can help it. She practically ran away from Pamela the second she dreamt about her death," the man in the trucker cap said.

Sam and Dean exchanged somewhat guilty glances. Laura had pushed away Pamela in fear that she would get caught in the crossfire, and low and behold, the Winchester's helped make that happen by calling her for help.

As if reading their remorseful minds, Bobby said: "It wasn't your fault you know. Pamela knew the risks. She wanted to help you boys out. She wanted to help Laura out. She just got the short end of the stick."

"She wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for us… and Laura wouldn't be off tryin' to take on a whole nest on her own either," Dean shook his head darkly. "So yeah, it kinda is our fault."

"We called Pamela to try to save Laura, Dean" Sam pointed out. "We didn't know."

"Well not to add anymore good news into the mix, but if Alastair said Lilith's got plans for Laura, well she shouldn't be runnin' off alone anywhere," Bobby pointed out the ominous truth that now the young brunette was even more deeply involved in this apocalyptic crap.

Dean and Sam looked at one another, knowing exactly what they had to do. Sure they were scared to face the probably livid young woman, but she had no one. She pushed away all those she loved to protect them, and the Winchester's owed her. They were not gonna run away from her, no matter how much she wanted them to; they knew how much pressure she was under and how much blame she was putting onto herself, and both brothers were certain she would not survive this without their help.

"Well," Dean sighed as Sam nodded in agreement. "Looks like we're goin' to Illinois."

* * *

The eldest Winchester whistled loudly as he drove the Impala through the swanky, old money town of Kenilworth, Illinois. Each brother looked out the window in awe at the scene before them: luxurious mansions with luscious gardens, massive parks, a quaint town with all designer shops, fancy cars littering the cobblestone streets, and everything was decorated for the Holiday Season.

"Dude is it Christmas?" Sam asked, looking at his brother.

Dean shrugged and glanced at his kid brother: "I think it's the 24th. Why?"

Sam paused: "Remember last Christmas?"

Dean smirked and chuckled a bit: "How could I forget?"

Both Winchesters vividly recalled the previous Christmas, thinking that it was the last one they would ever spend together. Dean had to practically fight Sammy tooth and nail to celebrate it with him, and only though guilting his baby brother about his going to Hell did that actually happen.

"Wait! Wait!" Sam broke through Dean's thoughts.

"What?" the eldest Winchester asked, glancing at his brother.

Sam nodded his head over at a gigantic, glamorous hotel. Sitting in the parking lot, with a thin dusting of fresh morning snowfall, was a bright and shiny cherry red '66 Mustang convertible.

* * *

Laura had just stepped out of her long, much-needed steam shower. Still dripping, she walked over to the large vanity and wiped the water vapor off of the mirror. Propping herself up on the sink, she examined her sleep-deprived face. Though flushed from the hot water, she had bags under her eyes caused by crying and sleep depravation. She looked thinner, too, from incessant exercise and lack of appetite. The nightmares, voices, and headaches had been growing worse, and Laura felt like she would never be able to gain control over her abilities.

What worried her more, however, was the apathetic numbness she felt; like a black hole growing inside of her. She felt nothing… nothing but guilt, pain, sadness, and worst of all, rage. It bubbled up inside of her like a volcano and she knew she would erupt in a vengeful fit sometime soon, regardless of whom it was directed towards. That's why Laura felt the need to hunt, as if killing some monster would prevent her from harming the innocent. But who was she kidding? The innocent would be in danger regardless… the world was going to end and she could do nothing to stop it. Hell, maybe she was just making things worse, cause God knew all she seemed to be doing lately was endangering others and causing more harm than good.

With a woeful, tired sigh, the pretty brunette wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself, grabbed the bottle of red wine she had left on the vanity, and took a gulp or two as she exited the posh bathroom.

Emerging from a plume of steam, Laura walked into her bedroom, tossing her dirty laundry into the basket in the corner. As she began to brush her long, thick, wavy dark brown hair, she ran through her plans yet again in her head. Clearly exhausted, distracted, and not to mention a bit drunk, it took her a moment or two to notice another person's shadowy reflection in the bedroom mirror.

With a swift motion, she grabbed a gun she had concealed under a pillow on the bed beside her, and turned to face the person lurking in the shadows. Before she could even say anything however, a somewhat impressed, but mostly jumpy Dean Winchester emerged from the shadows.

"Whoa, it's just me," the undeniably attractive hunter said weakly, holding his hands up in surrender.

"And?" Laura responded threateningly with a cocked eyebrow.

Clearly not knowing what to say or how to interpret that reaction, Dean grinned weakly.

Still maintaining her stony expression, Laura lowered her weapon and tossed it back onto the bed.

"What are you doing here?" the still dripping brunette asked coldly.

"Just came to check up on you," the eldest Winchester replied honestly.

"I'm fine… so thanks, but no thanks," Laura smiled caustically.

Dean glanced from the half-dressed young woman and then to her half-filled wine bottle, and his eyes finally rested on a second empty wine bottle: "Yeah, so you normally drink an entire liquor store?"

"Like you should talk," she shot back, now taking the wine bottle to the face again.

Dean appeared a bit offended, so after Laura finished guzzling down some more of the sweet, red substance, she continued: "Oh please, don't act so surprised. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to notice it."

"Maybe I haven't exactly had it easy the last couple years, okay?" he defended himself.

The young woman's delicate face remained emotionless: "Well neither have I."

Dean gazed at the psychic standing before him. She looked good, considering she had just lost her only real friend. Her blue-green eyes were glassy from the booze and a bit red from recently crying, but they were brighter than usual… mesmerizing even. Her tall, slender body seemed more toned and defined, and she even had a bit of a sun kissed look to her skin, though that could have been attributed to the hot shower. Laura's lips were stained a deep red and even seemed plumper… probably from the wine. Most of all, however, the eldest Winchester couldn't help but stare at the tiny and tightly wrapped white towel hugging her generous curves. As if sensing that the half-naked brunette took notice of his gawking, Dean looked back up into her eyes with a devilish grin.

"So I guess we're in the same boat, huh?" he asked, walking towards her and taking the bottle of red wine out of her hand.

He took a swig, still staring into her large eyes.

Laura watched him steadily as he finished the bottle of red wine. She tried to deny how much of her type he was: tall and muscular, scruffy stubble decorating his strong jawline, dark hair and brilliant green eyes, and not to mention the whole rugged, bad-boy thing he had going on. Yes, Dean Winchester was the very type of man she had always found herself gravitating towards during her years at the University, but things were different now. She had learned her lesson about dating players and older men. They were arrogant, pig-headed, and only had one thing on their mind… let alone that they were almost always emotionally unavailable and grew up with massive mommy or daddy issues.

"You have anymore?" his rich, deep voice asked her, snapping Laura out of her drunken thoughts. He had finished the bottle.

"Ugh… yeah, I think so," she mumbled.

As Laura strode to the refrigerator, she was mentally slapping herself for allowing the alcohol to cloud her judgment. He had gotten Pamela killed for Christ's sake! Not to mention what an ass he had been since she first laid eyes on the man.

Dean on the other hand watched her walk away lustfully and followed her through the living room towards the kitchen. As he did so, he took notice of a bunch of papers scattered on the coffee table and pinned on the wall. He couldn't help himself.

"So vampires, huh?" he called over to the brunette rummaging in the fridge. "You sure these are the fangs?"  
Laura emerged from the kitchen holding a fifth of whiskey. Tossing him the bottle, she began unpinning all of the papers that Dean was reading off of the wall.

"No way. It's one thing that you came to check up on me… but you're not gonna babysit me on the job."

Dean looked at the bottle with raised eyebrows, unscrewed it, and walked back towards the coffee as he drank the thick, brown substance. It burned as he swallowed and the eldest Winchester quickly skimmed the papers that were still out. He noticed a couple of invitations on the table to some Christmas Gala for tomorrow night.

Before he could read anymore, however, Laura walked over and collected the rest of the papers and gave him a stern look: "I mean it. I want you gone after tonight."

She made her way into the bedroom and threw the paperwork into a desk drawer and disappeared back into the bathroom, closing over the door ever so slightly.

Dean walked towards the doorway of the bedroom and leaned against it, sipping the whiskey.

"So… I'm allowed to annoy you tonight?" a wicked, crooked grin spread across his face.

Laura quickly opened the bathroom door, and to Dean's disappointment, she was wearing a much less revealing silk bathrobe.

"Where's Sam?" she immediately asked, brushing past the elder Winchester and taking the whiskey out of his hand and sauntering into the living room.

He stared after Laura lustfully and responded: "He turned in early… said he was tired."

Laura didn't respond, but rather drank from the bottle and plopped down onto the lavish couch.

Dean made his way over to her as smoothly as possible and sat down beside the brunette.

"I know this has gotta be hard for you," he said in a low voice, watching her stare into the bottle's contents deeply. "And I wanna let you know we never meant for this to happen."

Laura didn't respond. She knew if she did, she'd end up screaming at the oldest Winchester.

Dean shifted uncomfortably: "I know I wasn't that close with Pamela, but I've buried plenty of close friends… especially recently…"

The hunter paused, and Laura handed him the bottle without a second glance.

He took it and chugged its stinging contents. Eye's tearing a bit, he swallowed and gazed back down at Laura.

"Truth is… I'm tired of burying friends. Sam says I should get angry, but…" he said, but Laura spoke over him.

"Maybe he's right," she looked up at Dean somberly. Her head was woozy and all she wanted to do was cry, but the psychic would not allow herself to be so weak in front of Dean.

This time the handsome hunter was the one to remain silent as he guzzled back a few more shots of whiskey. What was he doing? He was supposed to be making sure the chick was okay, not get all emotional himself.

Clearing his throat, the oldest Winchester continued: "Listen, I'm not exactly good at this stuff, but um… if you ever need someone to talk to…"

Laura's breath was steady and rhythmic; Dean caught a glimpse of her cleavage from her loosely tied robe. He couldn't help but lick his lips a bit and he felt the familiar buzz of alcohol rush over him. His hungry eyes traveled up from her body towards her flawless face and rested on her luscious lips. She bit her lip softly and he thought he might die if he didn't try to kiss her. His eyes finally locked onto hers: they were watery, doe-like blue-green pools gazing up at him as if yearning for his comfort.

As Dean inched in closer and closer, Laura felt her intoxicated-self giving in. It felt like forever since she had been with a man. Looking up at him, she knew he wanted it too. He wanted to drown his pain and forget about all the guilt and loneliness. His lips were hovering over hers and suddenly, out of nowhere, fury bubbled up inside of the young woman.

Just as his lips brushed her own, Laura pushed him away aggressively.

"No way," Laura practically laughed to herself. "No way I'll _ever_ be that drunk. Let's get one thing straight here… I am _not_ like Anna."

Dean stared blankly at her, thoroughly confused and a bit embarrassed about being denied.

"What?" the offended eldest Winchester felt himself growing angrier and angrier.

"I'm not some damsel in distress you need to swoop in and save, okay?" she stood up shaking her head.

Dean got up as well, standing almost on top of her: "I never said that."

"No, but what's worse is that you think it!" she ran a hand through her damp hair. "I'm a lot of things, but pathetic is not one. I'm not gonna cry on your shoulder, and I'm _definitely _not gonna sleep with you cause I'm sad and need a man to make me feel secure," the brunette glared up at him.

A bit disheartened, but mostly annoyed Dean glowered right back down at her.

"Whoa, you think _I_ want to sleep with _you_?" he shot back with a laugh. "I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole!"

Now Laura appeared offended.

"I came here to make sure you weren't gonna get yourself into trouble… that's it… end of story," he tried to save face.

"So then why are you still here? I said I'm fine! So leave!" she fired back.

"Maybe I will!" he growled.

"Fine!"

"Fine!" the irate hunter spat back, storming towards the front door, opening it, and after a quick dirty look back at the fuming psychic, Dean Winchester slammed her hotel door behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, so another long chapter, but it does have some fluffy Sam and Dean bonding! I do promise the next one will have plenty of more action, though, so don't worry! All right, enjoy!

**Chapter Sixteen: **

"I'm tellin' you man, let's just go. She doesn't need us here anyway," a slightly hungover Dean snapped at his brother.

"Just cause she denied you doesn't mean we just leave town," Sam responded rationally, pouring some more alcohol into the crappy eggnog he had just made. He was hoping that by making this Christmas a little more festive his older brother would end up in a better mood.

"She didn't deny me," Dean interjected defensively, causing his kid brother to chuckle.

The eldest Winchester glared as his younger brother, who handed him a glass of the spiked holiday beverage.

Finishing it in three gulps, Dean coughed and sputtered: "I forgot how bad you make this…"

Samuel Winchester grinned a bit, grimacing a little as he sipped on his own glass.

"So you said she got invited to some Christmas Ball tonight… think it was from the vampires she made profiles for?" Sam ventured, earning himself a look of disdain from his older brother. "We aren't leaving town… so think of us helping her as just getting into the holiday spirit."

Dean frowned but knew Bobby would wring their necks if they skipped town while Laura took on an entire nest of fangs alone: "Fine… but don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Whatever you say, Scrooge," Sam smirked, finding himself very amusing, and then he got back onto topic. "So this Gala?"

"Here," Dean responded, tossing an invitation he swiped the night before onto their table.

Sam picked it up with interest and read it: "How long was she in town to snag one of these?"

The eldest Winchester shrugged carelessly: "Don't know."

"Well apparently a Mr. Bartholomew Kenilworth has eyes for her…" Sam trailed off, opening his laptop and beginning to type furiously.

Dean's eyes furrowed: "That name sounds familiar."

"It should… his family founded the town. He owns everything," Sam explained.

Dean shook his head: "Thanks Sherlock, but that's not what I meant."

Sam turned the laptop screen so his brother could view it: "Recognize his face, Ebenezer?"

Dean squinted and thought hard for a moment or two, and then he recalled why this guy seemed so familiar: "His picture was on her wall… I guess she thinks he's a fang."

"So Barty's a vampire… kinda odd he doesn't try to keep a low profile doncha think?" the youngest Winchester asked, for this was definitely not the M.O. of a typical vampire.

"I don't know. Maybe he wants to be the next Edward Cullen?" Dean ventured lazily, pouring himself another glass of eggnog.

Sam scratched his head, thinking, and then his eyes opened more in excitement: "Or maybe…" he said slowly as he began to search something else on the Internet. "He's got all the officials on his side."

"What makes you say that?" the eldest Winchester inquired.

"You said Laura had a bunch of photographs of other people. You recognize any of these guys?"

Dean scanned the pictures Sam brought up on the computer screen: "Yeah, most of them…"

"Mr. Danport is the D.A., Ms. Arbinger is the Head Justice of the Peace, Mr. van Esseck runs the Police Department, Mr. Potter is runs the telephone, television, and news stations, and Mrs. Hoyte is the head of the school district. Oh, and Pastor Champney, he's well…" an excited Samuel Winchester stumbled over the last part.

"A pastor?" Dean finished his brother's awkward pause.

"Yeah. But notice anything about all of them?" Sam brushed off his brother's continuous attitude.

"Not really…" the clearly bored eldest Winchester responded.

"They all were all part of the original founding families of the town… and if you look at the photographs of when Kenilworth was started…" Sam opened up a web browser: all of those face appeared in the 1889 founders photograph.

Dean glanced from the screen and back up at his baby brother: "Creepy family resemblance?"

Sam gave his older brother a look like 'really,' so Dean spoke again: "I'm kidding… but okay, say these are the actual founders of the town. Why hasn't anyone else noticed they didn't well, die by now?"

"Maybe they left, put other people in charge for a while?" Sam guessed. "But these guys are old, smart, and well connected…"

"And gankin' the local celebrities won't exactly go unnoticed…" Dean pointed out.

Sam nodded: "So what was Laura's plan?"

Both brothers sat for a moment or two, contemplating what their psychic acquaintance had cooked up as her strategy.

"I'd say it's a safe bet that all these fangs will be at the ball," Dean observed, looking at the ornate invitation again.

Sam agreed and said: "And she definitely met and made quite an impression on Mr. Kenilworth… I mean this seems like a serious black-tie event, and I'm sure outsiders can't just get in…"

"Think she was hoping to get them all in one shot?" the eldest Winchester asked.

"I mean if we were gonna go after a nest this advanced, we'd probably do the same. Quick and under the radar," Sam mused, frowning a bit. "She's gonna need back up."

Dean didn't appear too thrilled and voiced an obvious obstacle: "How would we even get in?"

Sam yanked the invitation from his brother's hands and looked at it closely: "We still got those monkey suits we wore back at Sea Pines?"

Dean snorted loudly: "The ones we wore when that old lady felt you up?"

Sam gave his brother a dirty look and shivered at the disgusting memory, but nodded his head.

"Yeah, somewhere in the trunk…" Dean responded, and then his eyes bulged out of his head once he had realized what his brother was thinking: "No way! I'm not wearin' that thing again!"

"If you wanna get in, you will," Sam said sternly, and then he got up from the couch and grabbed the keys to the '67 Chevy. "You know how to iron right?"

Dean made a disgusted face as his kid brother tossed him the car keys and then made his way towards the shabby motel door.

"Where you going?" the eldest Winchester inquired with a whining tone of voice

Sam held up one of the invitations his brother had stolen: "Copy store."

* * *

The Christmas Gala was well underway once the Winchesters had arrived. Parking the dirty and clearly out of place Impala down the block, the two dashing-looking brothers walked up the long, beautiful stone driveway. Everything was decorated in wreaths and garlands, and twinkling white lights were strung up enormous trees, lush bushes, and around the multiple water fountains that littered the gardens. As they reached halfway up the driveway, they heard the familiar sound of violins and pianos playing. The large windows were bright, revealing a crowded and eloquent party filled with beautiful, rich people dancing and drinking merrily.

Sam and Dean glanced at one another nervously, and Dean tugged on the neck of his tuxedo in discomfort.

"Man, I hate wearing these things," he grumbled under his breath.

Sam smirked and whispered back: "But you look so pretty."

Dean was about to elbow his annoying baby brother, but by that time they had reached the front door, which was heavily guarded by men in black suits, who were adorned with sunglasses and earpieces.

"Invitation, please," a brawny bald man asked gruffly.

Sam and Dean handed him their fake invitations and tried to appear as confident as possible.

The man glanced at the deep crimson paper and then looked back up at each of them.

"You guys look a little young to be in the state bureau," he eyed them suspiciously.

Caught off guard, Dean didn't know how to respond, but thankfully Sam was quick on his feet: "We're lobbyists. Senator Cartwright got us invited to write a good opinion piece on Mr. Kenilworth since he's running for mayor soon."

The large, muscular security guard still did not seem convinced, so Sam offered: "We have our IDs, or would you like to bother the Senator on his Christmas holiday at his ski house?"

The bald man glanced at his partner, fearful about angering his boss's superior and eventually allowed the two brothers inside.

"Dude, you full on lawyered that guy," Dean whispered with an impressed tone of voice.

"Lawyered?" Sam asked his older brother, clearly not getting the pop culture reference.

"It's a saying… from that show 'How I Met…'" Dean tried to explain, but as his younger brother continued to gaze back at him with a vacant expression, the eldest Winchester muttered in exasperation: "Oh, nevermind!"

The two men were ushered through a massive foyer with two large marble staircases leading up to a conjoined balcony landing. An ornate gold chandelier lit the entire room, and the Winchesters couldn't help but gawk.

"This way, gentlemen," came the stuffy voice of a butler, leading them towards the main party room.

Once they entered, the two boys from Kansas certainly felt out of place to say the least. Everyone appeared to be the creme de la creme of society: wearing expensive jewelry, designer clothes, and chatting about their recent yacht purchase or polo match. Sam and Dean exchanged uncomfortable glances, but the eldest Winchester's mood picked right up once the nearest waiter offered him a glass of champagne and horderves.

Quickly stuffing his face, the oldest Winchester looked around and took in the sight before him. The marble floor and walls were a brilliant off-white color with gold trim and designs. The ceiling had crystal and gold chandeliers, which illuminated the room in a very romantic manner. A band of classical musicians were stationed in the far corner of the room, and almost every inch of the place had gigantic, expensively decorated Christmas trees, wreathes, holly vines, mistletoe, and twinkling lights. Everyone was dancing in the center of the room or talking on the outskirts of the dance floor, whilst servers made their rounds throughout the crowd.

Dean chugged his champagne while looking around and soon finished the bubbly substance. Swapping out his empty glass with a new one as a waiter passed by, the eldest Winchester let out a small burp. Sam frowned in disapproval due to his brother's lack of class, but before he could scold him, they were addressed by an unfamiliar voice behind them.

"Welcome, and Merry Christmas!" came a rich, confident male's voice.

The Winchesters spun around to see who was greeting them and soon came face to face with none other than Bartholomew Kenilworth.

"I haven't actually met you two before, but I heard that Senator Cartwright sent you," the tall, handsome, blonde man with piercing gray eyes extended his hand.

Sam and Dean shook Mr. Kenilworth's hand firmly, though his grip was definitely stronger than theirs.

"Yeah, he ugh, wanted to make sure we got to know you before writing our opinion piece on the upcoming election," Sam responded, trying to sound as official as possible.

"Unfortunately I'm not going to be partaking in any official interviews today, but my publicist is around somewhere," Bartholomew looked around, "But I suggest you two take it easy and enjoy the party. Now if you two excuse me, I must tend to my other guests," the man eloquently dismissed himself to continue making his rounds.

"I don't like him," Dean grumbled, glaring at Mr. Kenilworth as he disappeared into the crowd.

Sam nodded his head whilst craning his neck to look over the sea of people. All of the sudden, his eyes widened and his mouth stood slightly agape. Taking notice of his brother's odd behavior, Dean looked every which way to see what Sammy was so intrigued by. Then he saw it.

Walking in from the outdoor garden was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Dressed in a brilliant red, extremely fitted mermaid, strapless dress and adorned in diamond jewelry was the very same woman Dean wanted to throttle the evening before. Her long, dark brown hair was curled and styled to the side of her face with a Marcel wave, framing her sexily made-up face perfectly.

"Is that?" Dean could barely get out the words.

"I think so…" Sam was just as stunned by Laura's transformation.

Without another word, the eldest Winchester made a beeline for the psychic who was casually sipping on her champagne, scoping out the scene. Sam nearly had to run to catch up with his older brother.

As they made their way through the crowd, Laura spotted them and her aloof facial expression was replaced with one of annoyance.

"What are you doing here?" she said through her teeth and forcing a fake smile once they had reached her.

"Nice to see you too," Dean spat, sarcastically smiling just as much.

"Listen, you two should leave, but I know you won't, so just stay out of my way, okay?" the radiant psychic said curtly, as a wide smile soon spread across her face.

Spotting Mr. Kenilworth walking towards them, with his eyes focused intently on Laura, Dean clenched his fists angrily as Sam rushed out the words: "What are you gonna do about Count Dracula and his motley crew?"

"Don't worry, I got it all figured out," she said out of the corner of her mouth, still beaming brightly. "Bartholomew!"

"Vivian, I've been looking everywhere for you," he extended his arm, which Laura promptly took.

The vampire glanced at the two brothers somewhat shiftily: "I take it you two met the simply ravishing Vivian Ramone, reporter for the Springfield News Sun."

Sam and Dean nodded, trying to appear as pleasant as possible.

"Well, thank you for the… interesting… conversation, but Mr. Kenilworth had promised me an _exclusive_ interview," Laura smirked, looking up at the statue-esque blonde man in a highly flirtatious manner.

Bartholomew returned her admiring gaze, but the Winchesters caught a predatory glint behind his cold, gray eyes.

"Interview?" Dean butted in with a challenging tone: "I thought you said you weren't going to be talking business tonight."

Laura shot Dean a glance like 'shut up' whilst Mr. Kenilworth chuckled a bit, though it was clear it wasn't genuine.

"You've got me," he smiled. "So to avoid being viewed as a hypocrite, may I simply have the pleasure of sharing a dance with you?" As Mr. Kenilworth asked this, he pecked Laura's delicate hand.

Her face flushed a rosy color whilst Dean's turned red in jealously.

"I'd love to," she said extra sweetly.

After curtly bidding the two Winchesters ado, the vampire and psychic turned and made their way into the center of the dance floor, but Dean could have sworn that Bartholomew gave him a gloating, almost challenging grin.

"I _really_ don't like him," he said between his teeth.


	17. Chapter 17

**So the reviews have been amazing! Thank you all for the support. Sorry this took me a bit. I hit a little writer's wall this weekend, but I'm hoping to get more chapters updated this week! Okay, I own nothing besides my OC. ENJOY!**

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Laura gazed up at the vampire effortlessly leading her around the dance floor. She was never a particularly good dancer, let alone trained in such a refined style, but Mr. Kenilworth seemed to be able to guide her around with such ease. They glided around the center of the floor, spinning, twirling, and swaying with Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata.' The champagne must have gone to her head, for the young psychic couldn't help but feel a tiny bit like a princess. The dress, the music, the atmosphere, and the mysterious and cultured gentleman leading her: it all seemed like a bizarre dream, and for a moment, the brunette had forgotten why she was even there.

As Bartholomew dipped her, and then pulled her back up, he held her more tightly to him. Her breathing had increased as she gazed up at him. He was, indeed, extremely handsome, in a romance novel kind of way. The only thing that irked Laura, bringing her back into reality, were his cold, grey eyes. Though beautiful and inviting, they held a sinister and predatory look behind them. She knew that he had been planning on inviting her to the Gala for one reason and one reason only: to feed on her.

Laura had spent two days in the town and during that time pieced together how Mr. Kenilworth and his band of followers were able to keep their vampiric ways a secret. After they had founded the town, they all left and put other family members in charge, stating that they wanted to find a new place to settle down. Faking their own deaths, their families ran things the way they were instructed and after a couple of hundred years, all the original founders trickled back into town, calling themselves 'distant relatives'. Only five years ago did Bartholomew return to Kenilworth, finally reuniting and leading them all.

During those five years, Mr. Kenilworth rose in the ranks, with help from his all ready established underlings who held positions power; eventually the whole town began to idolize him as an innovative leader. With everyone's support, he was now running for mayor and hoped to become an influence member of the Senate.

What bothered the female hunter, however, was how no one seemed to notice their lack of aging or bloodlust. Mr. Kenilworth and company did indeed go out in the sunlight, and though it hurt them, they endured it to keep up appearances. They had also forged birth records that made them seem younger, allowing them to remain in the small town for a longer period of time. The bloodlust, however, was a little harder to conceal. The multiple missing persons cases from surrounding towns was what originally brought Laura to the town. She had noticed that the town of Kenilworth seemed to be untouched by the recent spike of deaths and missing persons, which afflicted the surrounding areas.

Once she had arrived in town, she dug up as much information as possible, and soon discovered that Bartholomew Kenilworth was the vampire that turned the other six members of the very old, very powerful nest. She had come up with the plan to bind them all together, so that if the head of their bloodline died, they all would perish as well. A seemingly simple spell turned out to be extremely difficult to perform, for she needed DNA from all the vampires involved, as well as blood directly from the original fang; not to mention, they all needed to be in the vicinity of one another once Bartholomew was killed.

The only window of opportunity she saw was the Fifth Annual Christmas Gala, hosted by none other than Mr. Kenilworth at his estate, and all of the important people in town would be there. The only problem was getting herself an invitation. She decided the best plan of action would to meet Bartholomew's publicist and state that she was an interested reporter, trying to get her foothold at the Springfield News Sun. Laura came up with the backstory that she had just moved into the area, leaving all of her friends and family behind at her small town across the country; this made her a prime target for the nest: a pretty, naïve reporter with no one to miss her.

Yes, it was dangerous dangling herself around as bait, but Laura saw it as the only option. These vampires needed to be stopped and she did not want anyone else to get hurt; she was the perfect victim in their eyes and she just needed to play her cards right and keep them all in the dark while she gathered what she needed for the spell.

The song soon ended, and Bartholomew kissed her on the cheek stating he had to speak with his security about something; her stomach dropped a bit, fearing they had discovered she was not who she said she was. Playing it off nonchalantly she nodded her head and asked in the most eager voice she could muster up: "How long will you be?"

Bartholomew smirked and gently traced his finger along her cheek: "It shouldn't take me long to deal with the problem, and when I come back," he said, pulling her in and whispering into her ear: "I'll make sure we can get some private time."

Laura knew what 'alone time' with him meant, and she needed to have everything prepared by then. She had all ready collected pieces of hair from all of the other fangs in the nest besides Mr. van Esseck, and she knew he would be the most difficult one to get alone (considering he was leading Mr. Kenilworth's security team). As the psychic immersed in thinking up ways to get to the Police Chief alone, she was completely taken off guard when the vampire's lips crashed into hers. He kissed her hard and long, and although she wasn't prepared for it, the psychic couldn't deny that she enjoyed it. It was passionate, aggressive, and a bit rough. As quickly as it had happened, it ended and Bartholomew walked off towards the front of the house, leaving a slightly stunned Laura touching her lips.

* * *

"I bet she doesn't even have a plan," Dean grumbled, as he and his brother were busy tailing Mrs. Hoyte and Pastor Champney, who were now privately speaking in the garden outside.

"She wouldn't just walk into this without some kind of game plan," Sam responded as they both watched on from a few yards away.

"Don't give her that much credit, she's still an amateur at the job…" the eldest Winchester argued. "And now we gotta worry about saving her ass."

Sam tried to stifle his grin, but Dean noticed it.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked defensively.

The youngest Winchester shook his head and responded: "Nothin'."

Dean glared at his younger brother and then turned his gaze back onto the two vampires speaking to one another in hushed voices.

After a moment or two of silence, Dean began to rant again: "The least she could do is be thankful we're here."

"Dude, you can't be serious," Sam responded honestly. "Every time we bump into her, we cause her more problems."

"More problems? She's the one stupidly making out with some fang," the angry eldest Winchester snapped.

"You're letting that kiss get to you, man," Sam muttered, realizing his brother's volume was slowly increasing.

"What? That? Not at all," Dean protested as if it were the most outlandish thing he had ever heard. Sam merely gave his older brother an unconvinced look and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not jealous, Sam," Dean said sharply.

"You said it, not me," Sam felt a grin tugging on his lips again.

"Can we just shut up and do our job?" a highly irritated Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, hoping his brother didn't notice the small smile on his face. He knew that since Hell, Dean had been different. He didn't laugh or smile as much, and his jokes were half-hearted. He also didn't seem to enjoy picking up women as much, and his drinking had been increasing at an exponential rate. What scared Sam even more, however was how numb Dean appeared to be. He would never admit it to Sam, but Dean was struggling to feel much of anything these days. Sure he was stressed about the looming apocalypse and worried about his kid brother, but Dean loathed himself for what he had done in the pit. Sam knew his older brother couldn't forgive himself and to cope, just shut out all emotion. The only glimpse of the old Dean Sam had seen recently was when Laura was around. Sam just hoped that his brother didn't push her away before she could help him, for the youngest Winchester felt that, deep down, this psychic would help save his brother. Little did Sam know that she would also help save him too.

They watched and waited for their opportunity to strike, and within a few minutes, both the Pastor and the head of the school district had suspiciously began to make their way deeper into the garden. The Winchesters quietly followed, and once they had reached the very secluded and dark part of the garden, they saw that the two vampires they had been tailing were no longer alone. Standing with them was Mr. Kenilworth.

Sam and Dean drew out their machetes and inched their way closer, still concealing themselves behind a massive bush.

"Ms. Arbinger verified that they're here," Mrs. Hoyte said nervously.

Bartholomew appeared very calm compared to his two counterparts: "Not to worry. I have Mr. Potter on it. He should be taking care of the problem as we speak."

The two underling vampires nodded, and the Pastor inquired: "And the girl?"

"Vivian was sedated and tied up in the attic. Mr. van Esseck is keeping watch until we arrive," he explained with an evil smirk.

The other two vampires smirked wickedly.

"It's going to be lovely feeding on a fresh victim. I feel like it's been ages," Mrs. Hoyte said merrily.

Dean shot his brother a look like 'I told you so,' which Sam clearly did not approve of.

"Oh it's not just the one," Mr. Kenilworth said somewhat grandly.

The other two vampires looked puzzled, but excited at the prospect of more victims to feed on.

"We have two uninvited guests that I'm sure are just _dying_ to get us all together," he said loudly. As he did so, Sam and Dean both felt sharp pains in their necks and spun around to see Mr. Potter holding a tranquilizer gun.

Sam swiped his machete wildly, but the vampire knocked it out of his hand. In a swift motion, Mr. Potter gripped Sam by the neck and threw him out from the bushes that they were hiding behind.

Lying on his back, he looked up at the three fangs maliciously grinning at him. His head was woozy as the drug pumped through his veins and he yanked the dart out from his throbbing neck. Sam heard his brother struggling to fight off Mr. Potter, and the youngest Winchester tried to get up.

All of the vampires cackled as Mr. Kenilworth said: "Nice of you boys to join us for our Christmas feast."

Sam felt his eyes growing heavier, but once he saw Mr. Potter toss Dean's limp body next to his own, the youngest Winchester said weakly: "Dean!"

Before anything else could happen, though, Mr. Potter's foot slammed heavily down on Samuel Winchester's head, knocking him out completely.


	18. Chapter 18

**Two chapters in 24 hours! Guess the wall I hit this weekend is over! ;) Anyway, this chapter is all good, BLOODY fun, so read/review, and I hope to update ASAP. Oh, and google translate the ****Latin words**** I put in if you want... they do have a meaning! Okay, enjoy y'all!**

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Dean Winchester awoke from his drug-induced slumber. Disorientated, he tried to move, but soon discovered that both his hands and feet were bound. His green eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting of the small room he and his brother were being held in and he could hear the faint noises of the party, which was still going on downstairs. None of the vampires seemed to be around, so Dean quietly called to his still-sleeping kid brother: "Sam… Sammy…"

The youngest Winchester began to stir as Dean continued to hoarsely call to him: "Sammy!"

"It's Sam," he moaned, head throbbing. As he began to try to move, he too noticed he was tied up quite tightly.

"You okay?" Dean asked, trying to find the blade he had stashed in his back pocket.

"Yeah. You?" Sam inquired as the familiar irony taste of blood coated his tongue (the kick to the face must have caused his nose to bleed pretty badly).

"Fine. Tied up pretty good though," Dean grunted a bit, struggling to maneuver around the support beam he was bound to.

"Same here, but I think I can get to my knife," the younger Winchester stated.

"Well we better hurry if we don't wanna be the Christmas ham," Dean muttered.

As they struggled to free themselves, they heard the distant sound of approaching footsteps. Glancing at one another, they knew it could not mean anything good, and tried to work fast as possible; Sam had his blade in his hand and was busy sawing through the thick rope, whilst Dean finally flipped open his Swiss Army Knife. Before they could make any more progress, however, the door to the small attic room burst open and thoroughly intimidating nest of fangs entered the room.

"Wonderful! You're awake," a menacing Mr. Kenilworth said, looking at the Winchesters with a predatory expression.

The rest of his vampiric followers were close behind him, smirking hungrily at their potential dinner.

"I'd say bite me, but…" Dean said with a sarcastic smile.

Bartholomew clearly didn't find his victim's attitude amusing, but soon his angry face was replaced with a wicked smile.

"You hunters are always so proud… never think we see you coming," the head of the nest spoke softly, pacing in front of the two Winchesters. "But I've been alive for a very long time, and I've indulged myself on your kind more than I can count, so I'd wipe that smug smile off of your arrogant face."

Dean knew their only chance of saving themselves and Laura was if he could distract the vampires long enough for Sam to cut himself free, so the eldest Winchester continued to do what he did best: run his mouth.

"Indulged yourself? Listen Elton John, I don't swing that way," Dean continued to beam cockily.

Rage flashed behind Bartholomew's cold, gray eyes, but he soon regained his usual eerie calmness. Slowly walking over to the eldest Winchester, Mr. Kenilworth stooped down and yanked his victim's neck to the side, exposing his neck.

Sam watched in horror as his older brother tried to jerk his head away. Bartholomew's fangs descended from his gums and just as he was about to bite down into Dean's jugular, his stopped himself. Dean flinched, giving the ancient vampire the satisfaction that he could intimidate the hunter. With a pleased expression, he lingered over the eldest Winchester's neck and whispered threateningly: "We're gonna tear you limb from limb and make it nice and slow."

"So do it," Dean challenged the vampire as his brother continued to slowly free his bonds.

Bartholomew stood up and responded casually: "Oh, I will… but only after I make you watch as we slaughter your partner… and of course the girl." The vampire grinned sensing he had struck a cord with the smug hunter tied up before him.

Dean didn't respond, but merely glared up at the disgusting fang.

"I saw the way you looked at her," Bartholomew smirked. "I don't blame you… she is quite lovely."

This time Sam spoke up defensively: "Don't you touch her!"

All of the vampires began to laugh, as a sniggering Mr. Kenilworth continued to mock the two hunters: "It's a shame for someone so beautiful to die… but we do have two hunters to feed on, so I suppose we could just turn her."

Sam's hands were free at this point, though his feet were still tied up; regardless it took all his self-control to keep from lunging at the evil son of a bitch standing in front of him.

Dean on the other hand, didn't remain so calm: "I swear to God I'll kill you!"

Now all of the fangs erupted in maniacal laughter.

"I think it's time we bring our guest of honor in," Bartholomew practically sang before grandly addressing Mr. Potter: "Christian, could you be so kind as to notify Mr. van Esseck that it's time to welcome Vivian into our family."

The stout, yet oddly strong Christian Potter nodded obediently, giving one last sneering smirk towards the two helpless hunters glowering back up at him. With that, he disappeared out the door and went to fetch Laura and her captor.

"Let's have her feed on his partner and make him watch," the middle aged, harsh looking Ms. Arbinger suggested with a twisted expression.

Pastor Champney and Mrs. Hoyte nodded their heads vehemently in agreement as Bartholomew simply stared between both Sam and Dean.

"You're not gonna get away with this," Sam said darkly. "You kill us, you'll only attract more hunters."

"You'd do well not to threaten us, boy," the Pastor spoke in defense of his leader.

Bartholomew raised his hand to silence his follower, and merely said: "Easy Francis… his lack of manners won't be a problem for very long."

As Mrs. Hoyte was about to say something, a thoroughly alarmed Mr. Potter rushed back into the room. He slammed hard into the doorway, gripping it tightly to prop himself up.

"Bartholomew," he panted. "It's the girl."

Mr. Potter fell to his knees, holding his side tightly as a worried Ms. Arbinger rushed to his aid. She lifted his hand from his side, revealing a massive syringe of a dark red substance jutting out.

Christian crumpled into her arms, convulsing a bit as he began to look deathly ill. Mrs. Arbinger yanked the huge, now almost empty tube from deep within his ribs and examined it, and then looked back up at the others with a disturbed expression: "Dead man's blood."

Mrs. Hoyte and Pastor Champney watched on in horror as Christian's condition began to deteriorate before their eyes. He was sweating profusely, shaking non-stop, and his skin soon became a sickly gray color; Mr. Potter was barely conscious and seemed to not even be breathing. All the other members of the nest then looked to the furious Mr. Kenilworth, who appeared to be seething with rage.

"Someone find van Esseck," he said between clenched teeth, clearly trying to contain his immense anger.

Just as he spoke those words, a bloody, decapitated head flew through the open doorway. It hit the floor with a sickening thud and bounced a few times before landing at Bartholomew's feet. The vampires all looked down, completely stunned to find the severed head of the Police Chief; his eyes were still blinking.

Mrs. Hoyte shrieked as Mr. Kenilworth was about to erupt in white-hot wrath, but before he could, a few darts were shot square into Pastor Champney's wide eyes. Falling to the floor, the false man of God began to seizure as the three darts in his left eyeball emptied all of its contents of dead man's blood directly into his head.

During the commotion, Sam had found his opening to cut his legs free, while Dean finally sliced through the ropes binding his hands. Before either of them were completely up and ready to fight, however, Laura was all ready in the small attic room with a bloody sword in her hand. Before anyone could react, she hacked off the head of the still shouting Mrs. Hoyte in one, swift motion, splattering blood across the room and onto her own face.

Mr. Kenilworth roared in rage and leapt onto the brunette, forcing the weapon from her hands and taking a deep bite from her neck.

"Laura!" Dean shouted as he sliced through the rope around his ankles.

He rushed up to assist the brunette who was viciously being drained of her blood, but an enraged Ms. Arbinger attacked him and threw him into a pile of old, heavy, and dusty antiques. Sam was soon at his brother's aid, taking the sword from the ground and preparing to decapitate the female vampire. Before he could do so, though, she spun around and dodged the assault. In a swift kick, she sent Sam flying into a mirror, shattering it and cutting him something awful.

Ms. Arbinger turned to continue to attack Dean, but he was all ready ripping Bartholomew off of the now profusely bleeding psychic. Mr. Kenilworth threw the oldest Winchester off of him, and now both the vampires were concentrated on killing him.

Sam quickly leapt onto Ms. Arbinger as Dean struggled against Bartholomew. The female vampire gripped Sam firmly by the neck, choking him as hard as she could, whilst Dean was trying to keep Mr. Kenilworth from tearing out his throat.

At this point, a very weak Laura stumbled over to Bartholomew and stabbed him hard in the jugular with her hunting knife. Twisting it sharply, the ancient vampire howled in pain and kicked her off of him. Laura was sent flying into the wall and Bartholomew advanced toward her, gripping his now blood spurting neck.

Dean looked between Sam and Laura. Although Sam was in terrible danger, he knew his brother would be able to hold on longer than the young woman bleeding out in the corner. In a split second, he rushed over to Mr. Kenilworth, but was intercepted by the weak but recently resurrected Mr. Potter.

While the Winchesters struggled against their respective vampiric attackers, Laura gripped a small tube of different colored hairs in her one hand. As Bartholomew approached and picked up her limp body from the ground, he head-butted her. Though dazed and still losing a ton of blood, Laura found the strength to jam her fingers deep into his evil gray eyes. While he was temporarily blinded, she got some blood from his spewing neck into the vile. Bartholomew opened his bloody, now deadly eyes and was just about to rip her throat out, but before he could do so, an odd grin spread across the brunette's blood-smeared face.

Taking the lighter she had just flicked on, she lit the vile containing blood and hair and smashed it onto the ground, saying: "Mundabo vos!"

Mr. Kenilworth was taken off guard, but was too blinded with anger to stop his assault. As he lunged at the strangely smirking woman, he felt a small blade get thrust up underneath his chin and up into his mouth. With all the force she could muster up, Laura threw the vampire onto the floor. As Bartholomew pulled the knife out from his lower jaw, he looked up and his eyes grew wide. Standing above him with a twisted smile, was Laura, holding the sword high above her head. In a single fluid downward motion, the brunette sliced Mr. Kenilworth's head clean off, the terrified and surprised look still plastered on his face.

Mr. Potter and Ms. Arbinger, as well as the slowly stirring Pastor Champney all stopped what they were doing. The barely hanging on and thoroughly confused Winchester's stared on in awe as the vampires stumbled back, and burst into brilliant orange flames. Shrieking in agony, their charred bodies collapsed onto the floor, and soon the fires engulfing their bodies disappeared, leaving piles of ash where they once lay.

Gasping for breath, both Sam and Dean weakly stood up and looked at Laura who was holding her neck tightly with an unnerving, emotionless face.


	19. Chapter 19

**All of you guys who are faithfully reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing are AAAAMAZING! Thank you for all the support and pointers on how to improve! Keep it up! And anyone else who reads this far, one thank you and two if you have suggestions, let me know! I wanna know how I can improve! Um, also, I know a few of you will be VERY happy about part two of this chapter ;) (I DO keep suggestions in mind for my readers... if it fits the plot I have in mind). Anyhoooo, enough with my rants. ENJOY! (Oh, I own nothing!)**

**Chapter Nineteen: **

Laura, Sam, and Dean were seated in the psychic's luxurious hotel room, still dressed in their bloodstained ballroom attire and patching up their wounds in silence. The brunette had not spoken since they fled the Christmas Gala, and the brothers were worried. Glancing at one another, and then back up at the young woman quietly stitching up her neck, the Winchester's did not know what to say.

"Do you need help with that?" Sam offered awkwardly, as she winced and struggled to get a proper view of the bite through the small mirror.

"No," she stoically responded, never breaking her focus on her own reflection.

"You're butcherin' yourself … just let him stitch you up," Dean said, trying to sound a bit lighthearted.

"I said no," Laura answered crossly, finally making stern eye contact with each brother.

Sam and Dean averted their eyes and silently busied themselves with patching up their own wounds up, but every so often, they would look back up at the now seemingly irritated brunette.

"Can you both stop staring at me?" she hissed, closing the sewing kit once her bite was completely closed.

"She speaks!" Dean feigned surprise, trying to lighten the mood.

Laura merely glared at him while Sam said softly: "We're just worried about you."

The brunette closed her eyes and exhaled, making a clear effort to not blow up: "You don't need to."

"Yeah, cause tonight was so convincing," Dean chortled.

The young psychic was struggling to remain as calm as possible: "I used an easy binding spell to link the nest with Mr. Kenilworth… and it worked, so I don't know what you're talking about."

"And danglin' yourself as bait was so smart? You could've gotten yourself killed," Dean scolded her a bit.

"It was the only way to get close to all of them… and in case you two forgot, I saved your asses… again," she shot back with raised eyebrows.

Sam glanced at his brother who was clearly growing more agitated. Dean hated when other people had to save him; that was _their_ job.

"Just barely," Dean retorted.

Laura laughed incredulously and shook her head: "You are absolutely ridiculous! You can't just say thank you, can you?"

Dean's green eyes flashed with anger as she continued.

"I told you guys to stay out of it, and of course you didn't cause you both never can. I'm tired of you two treating me like some child that needs babysitting," she snapped.

"Well maybe if you didn't act like one…" Dean growled furiously.

"Dean…" Sam interjected softly, trying to diffuse the situation.

"No, Sam!" the eldest Winchester said fiercely. "You know she's out of control!"

"Out of control?" Laura inquired shrilly. "That's rich."

"You were kinda reckless during this case," Sam had to admit.

At a complete loss for words, Laura merely looked between both Winchesters.

"The way you killed those vampires… it was cold," Sam continued timidly. "It wasn't like you at all."

"Like either of you know me," she spat coldly.

"I'm not pretending we do, but you can't say going on some vengeful warpath and slaughtering a whole nest like that is what you usually enjoy doing," Sam continued, trying to be as sympathetic as possible. The girl had admittedly been through a lot.

"Maybe I do," she responded, earning a slight laugh from Dean.

"Right… you just did that to get your mind of Pamela," the oldest Winchester said as the brunette gave him death rays. "And, hey, I'm not blaming you. But when you're that careless during a hunt, that's when you get yourself killed."

"Thanks for the concern, but I've about had it with this lecture," she tried to dismiss herself from the conversation as she rose from the table.

"You're not getting rid of us that easily," Dean stood up as well. "Until you get your shit together, we're stayin' right here."

The youngest Winchester, at this point, rose from his chair and stood beside his brother, silently backing him up.

Laura was almost beside herself at this point: "You two are the biggest hypocrites. You know that right?"

Sam and Dean did not respond, so the livid young woman continued: "You both are the last people who should be telling me to get my crap together."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean inquired just as angrily.

"You both are the poster boys for out of control messes… you get back from Hell, hating yourself for what you did down there, but since you won't talk about it, you let it eat you up inside. Then you lash out or choose to feel nothing," she ranted as Dean's eyes widened a bit. His mouth was slightly open as he searched for a response, but the brunette continued, now addressing his kid brother: "And you, well you may have started with good intentions, but boy are you a wreck. You think you can control those little powers Ruby's helping you with? Well you can't… you're a ticking time bomb! You both are!"

The Winchesters looked at her in shock and awe as she hit the nail on the head about both of them. They couldn't even process how dead on she was in order for either of them to respond, and sensing she had hit a sore spot with both Sam and Dean, Laura finished telling them off.

"And you know what the kicker is? I never judged either of you about how you're handling your issues. I mean God knows I can't think of a way to help you forgive yourself or make you see how dangerous playing with those abilities are, but I respect both of you enough to hold my tongue and let you handle it. Guess you two can't return the favor, though," she stated fiercely as she grabbed her duffel bag and threw it over her slender, bruised shoulder.

Storming towards the hotel door, she opened it and then turned to face the stunned Sam and Dean once more: "Oh, and Merry Christmas."

And with that, the door slammed and the brunette was gone.

* * *

Laura drove her car nonstop until she arrived at her destination. Taking some time to clean herself up at the closest gas station, she wiped the dried blood off of her face, neck, and hands. She tied her dark, curly brown hair back into a loose ponytail and changed into a pair of jeans, boots, a white t-shirt, and black leather biker jacket. She stared hard at her reflection, playing absentmindedly with her amulet.

"I can do this," the brunette breathed, gazing into her own tired, yet still vibrant blue-green eyes. "I need to do this."

Laura left her '66 cherry red Mustang parked in the lot of the fill-up station and crossed the street. It was around 2 a.m. and the entire road was empty as she hopped the locked fence of the "Gates of Heaven" cemetery. Pulling out her flashlight, the young woman made her way around the extremely small local graveyard, and after about ten minutes of searching, she had found it.

The plot was a mere mound of dirt, lightly dusted over with the now swirling snow. A few flowers were placed in front of the beautifully simple headstone, and Laura stood there silently staring at the engraving: 'Here rests Pamela Barnes, a loving friend and daughter.'

The young psychic hated flowers for many reasons, but for the first time in her life, she kind of wished she had some. She felt guilty for missing the burial and wanted a token of her affection and gratitude for her fallen best friend and mentor. She felt her eyes burning from the tears she fought to keep back as she folded her arms and shivered a bit.

As if ashamed, Laura looked down at her feet, a few hot tears dropping from her eyes. The moon was bright that evening and the pale light hit the amulet around her neck in such a way that she had to take notice of it. It was Pamela's before she passed it onto Laura almost a year ago. The brunette smiled to herself as she took it off. It seemed quite fitting to give it back to her deceased friend, and it was certainly more original than some sappy flowers.

As the young woman bent down and placed it on the gravestone, she was completely startled by a familiar voice behind her.

"That was a gift," came the throaty and slightly amused voice of Pamela Barnes.

Laura turned around with a start and her eyes widened at the sight of her friend standing very close behind her.

"Should I say 'boo' or is that too predictable?" Pamela smirked, her unscorched brown eyes sparkling.

Laura's eyes welled up. She had so many things to say to her friend. So many apologies, so many questions, but for the life of her, the young brunette couldn't get a word out.

"You're keepin' that amulet, kid. I gave it to you for a reason," Pamela crossed her arms as she tilted her head.

"It was yours first," Laura responded in a low voice.

"What am I gonna do with it now?" the black haired psychic chuckled. "Besides, from what I saw these last few days, you're gonna need it."

"You saw that did you?" Laura asked a bit sheepishly.

Pamela stared hard at her friend with a somewhat disappointed expression: "What were you thinking? The Winchesters are wrong about a lot of things, but they were spot on about you bein' reckless… did you even make sure that ritual was legit or did you just use the first one you found?"

The brunette couldn't look into her friends brown, probing eyes, so she stared at her black leather combat boots.

"That's what I thought," Ms. Barnes mumbled. "You can't act like this every time you lose someone, Laur. You're gonna get yourself killed."

"So what if I do?" Laura said as tears began to freely fall down her cheeks. "I couldn't save you… who says I can save my family, or Krissy, or Lee? I can't do this."

"You listen to me! And you listen good!" Pamela suddenly erupted with such passion that Laura had to look up. "None of this is your fault. Not one thing. And you _will_ overcome whatever comes your way. You know why I know?"

Laura didn't respond, so her ghostly friend continued: "Because you have no choice. It's not fair what's been put on your shoulders Laura, but you can handle it and will handle it. For _them_. For your friends and family. For the Chambers, Bobby, and even those damned Winchesters. You will for the world, cause you're the only one I know who's strong enough and selfless enough to do the job… and do it right..."

As the psychic zealously spoke, Laura felt a sudden surge of power fill her. Pamela believed in her. She had faith in this little unknown psychic when she first showed up on her doorstep with Lee and Krissy. She stuck by her during those tough nights of constant night terrors and homesickness. Pamela pushed her to hone her abilities and search for the truth, regardless of how dark that reality was. Pamela trusted her to do the right thing, even if it was hard, and this amazing woman before her, even in death, was not going let Laura give up; she was going to stick by her side no matter what.

"And I'll be damned if you give up on yourself. Over my dead body!" Pamela finally finished.

"Literally," Laura joked, as she looked down at the grave then back up at her best friend's spirit.

Pamela grinned and handed Laura her amulet back: "This only keeps your powers in check if you focus. You can't go all kamikaze like that on a job again."

"I know. I know," Laura said, taking the necklace and putting it back over her head. "I'm sorry for missin' your funeral."

Pamela shrugged: "Don't worry about it. _I_ wasn't even there for it."

Laura gazed at her friend with a puzzled expression, so the ghostly psychic explained: "I was with you dummy."

"But… I didn't see you," Laura said slowly, still a bit confused.

"Cause I didn't want you to… you weren't ready to see me," Pamela said softly, smiling sadly, and taking Laura's hand into her own.

Laura grinned weakly and then something dawned on her: "Wait… how are you even still here? Why didn't you go with your reaper?"

"Apparently the one in town owed you one… so I chatted with her and she said she would give me a few months to keep an eye on you," she explained.

Laura immediately remembered Tessa and nodded her head: "Funny how death owes me her life, huh?"

"Who are you talking to?" came a voice suddenly behind the brunette.

It had begun to snow heavily now, as Laura spun around and came face to face with Castiel.

Gesturing to the invisible spirit behind her, Laura noticed that the perplexed expression remained on the angel's face, as if he could not see Pamela. Turning around, the young woman saw that her friend was no longer there.

Laura then faced the trench coat wearing warrior of God and responded: "Nevermind… how'd you find me?"

The amulet Laura wore was not only meant to keep her powers in check, but the young psychic had tampered with it enough to keep herself hidden from angels, demons, and any other entities she didn't wish to see.

"You took that off," the angel said flatly, staring intently at the necklace.

Laura immediately tucked it into her shirt and wrapped her jacket tightly around herself: "Why are you here, Castiel?"

"We need to talk," he said, now looking into the distance, as if distracted.

"I was kind of in the middle of something," Laura responded, annoyed that the angel had interrupted her precious time with Pamela.

Castiel looked at the tombstone then back up at the female. It was apparent that she had been crying; the angel never fully understood human emotions, but he knew he was supposed to say something comforting during this particular type of situation.

"Your friend's death was… regrettable," he said, though he didn't sound empathetic at all.

"If that's your way of saying sorry, stick with sending a condolence card next time," Laura replied sarcastically.

The angel stared back at her blankly, so Laura shook her head in exasperation and asked: "Just tell me what you wanted say."

"We know about your abilities," Castiel stated, staring steadily at her with his icy blue eyes.

"And?" Laura inquired with a cocked eyebrow.

"We know you can hear us," he continued.

"I'm not another fallen angel if that's what you're getting at," the brunette stated confidently.

"That's not what we're concerned about…" the angel seemed to have a troubled expression on his face.

"Just cut to the chase… what's this all about," the young woman gazed up at him.

"There won't be any cutting involved," Castiel said with a confused face, but before Laura could explain that it was just an expression, the angel continued: "If you can hear us, you probably know of our weaknesses."

This time it was the young woman's turn to be perplexed: "I don't know what you mean."

"Angels are dying mysteriously," Castiel said simply.

Laura was still lost and said with furrowed eyebrows: "That's unfortunate, but not really my problem."

"Actually, it is," a deeper, more dangerous voice responded.

Laura quickly turned around and saw Uriel standing before her, and he did not appear remotely as pleasant as Castiel.

"You can hear us, therefore you know our secrets… our plans. You know how to hide yourself from us, and maybe even how to _kill_ us," Uriel said stepping towards her with a very threatening look.

"Wait… You think _I'm_ doing this?" Laura asked in amazement.

"I felt what you could do," the African American referred to the powers she exhibited in the barn. "You're probably capable of it."

"Listen, I swear I didn't do it," the brunette said honestly, her blue-green eyes as wide as saucers.

"We're just following orders," Castiel's almost saddened voice chimed in.

Laura turned to look at the man in the trench coat pleadingly: "What orders? You know I didn't do this!"

"It's just a precaution," the blue-eyed angel beat around the bush some more.

"So what are you gonna do? Kill me?" she brushed a few snow covered strands of hair from her face.

"No," Uriel's deep voice responded, causing Laura to look up at him fearfully. The angel had an odd expression on his face: one of both ill-intent and sickening amusement. "But you're coming with us."

Laura's eyes grew wide, and in a flash, the cemetery plot of Pamela Barnes was completely vacant, with nothing but three sets of footprints and the swirling snow.


	20. Chapter 20

**A bit shorter than usual, but I WILL update soon! Thanks again for the favorites, follows, reviews, and support. Keep it coming! Okayyy, dive in! **

**Chapter Twenty:**

Laura awoke with a start. Although she knew her eyes were open, all the brunette could see was blackness. Within moments she knew that she was tied up, blindfolded, and being held in quite a drafty place. She understood that Uriel and Castiel had taken her for some, most likely, unpleasant reason.

"Hello?" she called out, blindly and timidly. Her voice reverberated around the room and she sensed that it was very large and empty.

There was no audible response besides the faint dripping of water from some leaky pipes nearby. Although the young woman was terrified about what the angels had in store for her, she was also growing annoyed. They were extremely powerful beings, so why was there a need to string her up and impede her vision? It was stupid, and frankly irritating.

"I know you guys can hear me!" the psychic said forcefully, trying to pass off the illusion that she wasn't the least bit intimidated.

Out of nowhere, someone yanked off the blindfold. As Laura's eyes adjusted to the dim and dank lighting of the room she was being held in, she complained snarkily: "Was the blindfold really necessary?"

"Watch your tone," Uriel commanded, eyeing the woman as if she were a piece of garbage.

"If you're expecting me to be polite after abducting and tying me to a chair, well… your people skills clearly need some work," she smirked a bit.

The corner of the angel's mouth twitched in irritation as he backhanded the young psychic across the face with an immense amount of force.

The slap echoed in the room and Laura immediately felt blood pooling in her mouth. Spitting it out onto the angel's black, shiny leather shoes, she glared at him.

As Uriel was winding up to strike the brunette again, Castiel suddenly appeared and grabbed his partner's arm.

"Not like this, Uriel" the man in the trench coat said gazing down at the young woman, who now had a red welt forming across her face.

"We must find out who is killing the members of our garrison. Or do you care about this hairless monkey over your own brothers and sisters?" Uriel inquired, clearly trying to guilt his fellow angel.

"There's enough torture occurring right now. Give me a moment alone with the female," Castiel stood his ground.

Uriel looked between Laura and Castiel, and then responded casually: "Fine. But if you don't come up with anything, I'll be taking over." The African American agent of the Lord then paused and stared menacingly down at the bound brunette: "And I won't be as gentle as my counterpart is."

"I look forward to it," Laura responded dryly, still smirking a bit just to irritate the cruel warrior of Heaven. She seemed quite calm, but inside, the brunette was beyond terrified.

Uriel stormed out of the room and before closing the heavy metal door, he called over his shoulder: "Thirty minutes, Castiel."

Once the door was shut, Castiel merely gazed down at the female with his head cocked to the side. She was an unusual human being: completely calm in the face of such a dire situation. The angel couldn't tell whether she fully grasped what was going on or was merely posturing.

"Are you gonna just stare at me all night, cause you're making me uncomfortable," Laura admitted, shifting a bit in her seat to see how tightly she was bound. Her chances of escape seemed dismal.

"I'm sorry. I did not wish for this to happen," he said as his blue eyes continued to pierce her own.

"You know I didn't kill any of your friends. Don't you?" she asked, for she could read the confliction all over the attractive angel's face.

"You aren't the only one we brought in for questioning," Castiel stated, as if that made her predicament any less dreadful.

"Well that makes me feel loads better," she responded sarcastically, shaking her head.

The trench coat wearing angel looked at her with confusion: though that was what she said, his words did not seem to actually affect the female's mood positively at all.

"Who else is here?" Laura asked, breaking his train of thought.

"We captured Alastair."

The young woman laughed a bit and said: "Good luck getting that one to talk."

"He has been… difficult… but we have ways of making demons divulge their secrets," the blue-eyed angel said appearing a bit troubled.

Laura did not like the sound of that, so she continued: "So you're torturing him… Hell's Grand Poobah of eternal torment… and how's that goin' for you?"

"Admittedly not very well," Castiel answered, pacing a bit.

"And Uriel wants to do the same thing to me, huh?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

Castiel gazed at her apologetically, and then broke eye contact.

"I'm innocent! You guys _have_ to know that! I don't know what went on in the barn to get your friend so freaked, but…" she blurted out, but Castiel interrupted her.

"You almost pulled him from his vessel."

"I, I what?" Laura asked in awe. She didn't even know that was possible.

"You were about to send his angelic form back up to Heaven," Castiel rephrased his original statement.

"But how?" the brunette asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"We don't know. No human… or psychic… has even been able to do something like that," Castiel was now looking at her closely. She seemed to be telling the truth.

"So that's why Alastair was so interested in my powers…" Laura muttered.

Castiel nodded his head, so the brunette went on: "But I didn't mean to do it… And I probably couldn't do it again, let alone _kill_ one of you."

The angel did not know how to respond.

"Castiel," Laura said his name with a beseeching tone of voice. "I swear I didn't do this. Alastair's your guy. Not me."

"We must be certain," Castiel regurgitated the orders he, himself had received.

"So you're gonna torture me until I'm nothing but a bloody heap on the floor… and only then you'll be convinced…" Laura spat bitterly, looking at the angel in disgust.

Castiel could not look her directly in the eyes. His superior's instructions were recently straying from what the angel was always taught to be the righteous path. From condoning the torture of a human being, to dragging Dean Winchester in to torture Alastair, the angel sensed something was off. He was having doubts, and it scared him.

"You know, you're supposed to be the good guys in this, but I guess that was a load of crap," the brunette indignantly stated.

"I don't agree with it, but…" Castiel started to say, but Laura cut him off.

"So stop this! You know this is wrong!" she practically yelled.

"I cannot question my superiors," he said simply.

"Why? Afraid you'll be hunted down like Anna? At least she can look at herself in the mirror everyday," the psychic's blue-green eyes were boring holes into him.

Castiel did not have a response for the woman. He knew deep down that she was right; though she didn't understand the situation he was in either. He couldn't disobey orders. It was unheard of and a mortal sin.

"Well since there's no chance of you helping me break out of jail, and nothing that I can say that will convince your dick of a partner I'm innocent, then let's just get this over with… I'd rather not sit around waiting to be sliced and diced," she said with a dark expression and tone of voice.

"I'm glad we finally see eye to eye," Uriel's voice said almost merrily; he had just appeared in the corner of the room.

"I have just received revelation… you fetch the Winchester, I will deal with this one," he commanded Castiel, eyeing Laura with a delighted expression.

Laura looked between both angels in horror, realizing what was unfolding before her.

"You can't bring Dean in to torture Alastair!" she protested in shock. Looking at Castiel to see how horrible this idea was, she added: "Castiel… you know what this will do to him!"

Castiel let his head hang down as he vanished, and Laura screamed after him: "You spineless bastard!"

"I think…" Uriel said, slowly making his way towards her, "you should be more concerned about what is going to happen to _you_."

The African American angel bent down and was inches from her face with an ominous smirk. Practically whispering, the warrior of Heaven inquired: "Now I'm only going to ask this once… are you involved in, or have any information about these killings?"

Laura glowered into his almost black eyes, silently bracing herself for what she was about to undergo: "Bite me."

Uriel smiled wickedly, and within a moment, the once silent building erupted with the sickening sounds of agonizing shrieks.


	21. Chapter 21

**Apologies for this one being so short, but it was sort of unsettling for me to write it. I felt it deserved it's own Chapter, rather than adding a new scene at the end. On a lighter note, the reviews and support have been awesome. You guys make me so much more dedicated to update, so keep that up! Also any tips or thoughts are welcomed. Okay, happy reading!**

**Chapter Twenty-One: **

"You can't make me do this!" Dean argued fiercely.

The eldest Winchester had just been abducted from his motel room by Castiel and now found himself in some abandoned warehouse in God knows where. The hunter gazed through the window a of heavy metal door at the limp figure of Alastair. The white-eyed demon was chain to an iron pentagram inside an ancient Enochian devil's trap.

Breaking his gaze at the trapped, yet still very powerful demon, Dean turned to look back at a clearly conflicted Castiel.

"Where's the door… I'm leavin'," the eldest Winchester shook his head, beginning to make his way past the angel.

"We cannot let you leave," the trench coat wearing creature of Heaven said with a monotone voice.

"Fine… keep me here," Dean threatened: "But I won't be torturin' anybody just so you guys don't have to get your hands dirty."

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the shrill cries of a woman in torment. Dean's angered expression melted away as he looked around with wide eyes.

Turning back to face Castiel with a look of disgust: "And who's that poor girl you got being torn apart, huh? Is this what you guys do? Is this what your Father wants?"

"We must follow orders," Castiel said with no conviction behind his words whatsoever.

"Bull!" Dean spat crossly with furrowed eyebrows.

The cries continued to echo throughout the warehouse, and Dean shook his head.

"We need to find out who is responsible for killing members of our garrison. Alastair is our lead for the demons, and the psychic could be involved as well," the blue-eyed angel could not look Dean in the face as he continued. "If the enemy knows how to kill one of us then…"

"Psychic?" Dean interrupted the warrior of God. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt as if he were going to be sick.

He stared at the angel, waiting for a response, but Castiel's silence only infuriated him more.

"Psychic!" panic began to fill his body. "Look at me, dammit!"

Castiel's saddened and guilty blue eyes slowly met the eldest Winchester's horrified face.

"If you're tellin' me that's Laura in there…" Dean trailed off as a blood-curtailing scream rang out even louder. His eyes darted towards a door a few yards away and bolted for it.

"Dean!" Castiel called after the hunter, but to no avail.

The eldest Winchester reached the door and witnessed the gruesome sight through the grimy window. Hanging from the ceiling by her bleeding wrists, with her bare toes barely reaching the blood-soaked floor, was Laura. Her hair was matted and wet from sweat and blood, and her head hung limply, shrouding her face in shadows so that Dean could not see the full extent of her injuries. Her jeans and white t-shirt were cut up and bloodstained, and he could see massive welts from lashings, physical blows from blunt objects, and punches and kicks. Uriel was pacing around her, holding a long, thin blade. The eldest Winchester could not make out the question being asked, but the revolting smile that spread across the African American's face made Dean want to run in and gank the sick song of a bitch.

"Don't touch her!" Dean yelled, trying to open the door as Uriel plunged the knife into the brunette's thigh. Her cries of pain masked the eldest Winchester's frantic shouts of protest.

He tried to open the heavy, rusted metal door, but it was locked. His green eyes blinked back tears of rage and helplessness as he watched the angel strike her across the face, spraying fresh blood across the floor. Now the oldest Winchester could make out her face: cut up, bruised, swollen, and bloody. Although she was in pain, she had a weak grin on her face as Uriel lifted her head up to face him.

Spitting a thick wad of blood and tissue into the African American angel's sour face, she chuckled a bit before he sliced a piece of skin off of her slightly exposed stomach. Laura's laughs immediately turned to yelps of pain, as Dean continued to try to force the door open.

"It's no use," Castiel said, now behind Dean, unable to watch the events taking place in that room.

"Laura!" Dean continued to scream, pounding on the door until his hands became swollen with black and blues. "Let her go!"

"Uriel won't stop," Castiel said with certainty. "Unless we can prove her innocence."

"She _is_ innocent," Dean said furiously, kicking at the door. "Let her go, please! Just please, Cas! She didn't do it!"

He felt his eyes burning as Castiel placed a firm hand on his shoulder: "The only way he'll cease is if Alastair confesses."

Dean stopped what he was doing and dropped his head in submission, for the oldest Winchester knew what was necessary to make Uriel stop. He stared blankly into the window, as Laura wept in agony and received a forceful knee to the ribs, and after a moment, Dean turned to face the heartbroken angel.

"Fine," Dean said darkly. "I'll do it."

As if he was able to hear the entire conversation, Uriel stopped his assault on the now barely alive brunette and opened the cell door. Wiping his bloody hands on a cloth, the African American angel sighed: "I'm glad you're coming to your senses."

Dean glowered at the despicable creature standing before him: "You got what you want. Now heal her and let her go," he said dangerously.

Uriel sniggered and shook his head, and then responded seriously: "The bitch will remain here until you get the information we need."

It took all of Dean's self control to keep him from beating the angel to a pulp, but his gaze soon fell upon Laura. Her breathing was shallow while a long string of thick blood dripped from her sagging head.

"Okay," he said between his teeth.

Without another word, Dean Winchester pushed passed both Castiel and Uriel, mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen. He knew this would not be something he could simply come back from. Picking up the knife… torturing again… it would forever leave its mark, and he would never be the same. The thoughts of Hell flooded through his mind as the eldest Winchester fought back tears. Sighing, he stepped into the darkness of the room in which Alastair was being held. He was so lost in his morbid thoughts that Dean could not hear the faint and weak cries of protest coming the now sobbing psychic.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys! So first off, you all are the best! The support's unbelievable and I'm loving the reviews/favorites/follows. I wanna get as much feedback as possible to improve, and if any of you run any Communities that this story would fit well in, let me know! Want to get as much readers as possible so I can make this better and better. Two, I have an idea about making this a trilogy. Season 4 obviously being this story, and then 5 becoming a separate story. I would finish it up with a final story of a Season 6 that would mostly be my on AU to put a nice little bow on my OC's storyline. Let me know what you all think. Third, and finally, this chapter is LONG! Apologies for those who like shorter chapters, but my last two were small, so bear with me on this one. Okay, well done boring y'all. Read away! :):)**

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

Laura was drifting in and out of consciousness, and oddly enough, she didn't feel much of anything. Perhaps it was from the major loss of blood she underwent, or the repetitive blows to the head, or maybe she was simply in shock; regardless, the brunette was just happy the intense pain she had been experiencing for two long, grueling hours was over.

Lifting her heavy head, she glanced up and saw the blurry image of her raw, chained wrists, which were chafed and bleeding from her entire body weight hang from them. Struggling only sent jolts of white hot pain down her arms, and the young woman could only assume both shoulders were out of their sockets. There was no possible way of her wiggling herself free from the tight, iron clamps.

"God I gotta start keeping bobby pins on me," she grunted with a hoarse voice from screaming incessantly.

As she regained her cognizance, the pain started to come back. Her head was throbbing, each cut smarted something awful, and every breath she took made her most likely broken ribs ache. Blinking away the sweat and blood that was dripping into her eyes, she heard the distant sounds of Alastair's screams.

"Dammit, Dean," she sighed angrily.

She couldn't believe the angels had stooped so low as to force the eldest Winchester into torturing the white-eyed demon. Dean was all ready in a frail condition: constantly struggling with the no-doubt traumatizing things he had experienced in Hell. Not only did he feel immense guilt and self-hatred for torturing souls in the pit, now that Dean was back, he also had to deal with the looming apocalypse. Laura also sensed the growing tension between Dean and his brother. The time spent in Hell pushed Sam into a dark place, and feeling immensely lost and lonely, he turned to Ruby. It was quite apparent that the demon was fueling the youngest Winchester's obsession of hunting down Lilith to exact his revenge. The psychic had a sinking and nagging feeling that Ruby was not helping them out of the goodness of her heart. Laura didn't know what the demon's motive was or how she was helping Sam boost his abilities, but the brunette was definitely very suspicious about the whole thing.

Dean, like Laura, had the same viewpoint. Knowing him, he was constantly trying to open his kid brother's eyes to the blatant red flags Ruby kept sending out to everyone else. Sam, however, was just as stubborn as his older brother, and for whatever reason, he trusted the demon... maybe even more than he trusted Dean. Laura didn't want to get in the middle of their family drama, feeling that they should handle it themselves, but the brunette had recently begun to think that Ruby was pushing the Winchesters further down the rabbit hole, and that could be too dangerous for her to just sit back and watch.

As every nerve of hers slowly began to regain feeling, sending pangs of intense agony throughout her weakened body, she heard Alastair's shouts growing louder and louder. She wanted desperately to break free and rush into the room to stop Dean from continuing his self-destructive work. Mostly, though, she wanted to get out and kick the crap out of Uriel for using her as a ploy to get the eldest Winchester to play along with his twisted plan.

Then, all of the sudden, the screams stopped. The silence was eerie, and the brunette strained her hears to listen for, well, anything, but all she could hear was the dripping of water again. Hoping that Alastair had cracked or that Dean simply ceased his terrible work, the brunette awaited to be released… little did she know that the angel's plan had totally gone awry and the next person to step into her cell would not be so friendly.

She waited in silence, and after a few more minutes, her weak head began to grow heavy again. Giving in and letting it fall, her hazy blue-green eyes examined her mutilated body. She was still profusely bleeding and each kick or punch she had received was beginning to leave massive black and blue welts. She wondered how bad her face looked, for she felt sticky, oozing blood coming from her nose, mouth, and head. As more time passed, and the adrenaline wore off, Laura's thoughts traveled to home to cope with the intense soreness and pain.

The young woman longed for her old life; her heart ached for her family, and how simple things used to be: attending the University, the excitement of studying abroad, and her dismal job at some crappy chain restaurant. She missed being a normal twenty-two year old. She missed going to the bars with friends, going on dates, and even studying. Now, though, all of that was gone, and this miserable nightmarish existence was what she was left with.

Allowing herself to stop fighting both the depressive thoughts and extreme drowsiness, the psychic closed her eyes and felt herself beginning to fade.

She didn't know how long she had lost consciousness again, but Laura began to hear the distant echoes of footsteps approaching her cell. The brunette was too weak to look up, and as she heard the door open, she knew one of two things would happen: she would be saved or tortured again. Laura, however, did not think about a possible third option.

Whoever had come into the room was completely silent, not saying a word, but merely yanked the chains from the ceiling. As her sore, bleeding body fell, two unfamiliar arms caught the brunette. She was expecting Dean's muscular ones, but perhaps Castiel had finally came to his senses and decided to let her leave.

"Thank you," she whispered weakly as she felt herself being scooped up bridal-style. Now that her head was supported, she opened her heavy eyes and saw who had released her.

As her blurry vision adjusted, Laura's blue-green eyes widened in fear while her horrific savior spoke in his characteristic nasally voice: "Don't thank me yet."

"Alastair," she breathed, as the demon examined her own battered body.

The white-eyed demon had definitely been worked over well by the eldest Winchester. Smeared in blood and sweat, drenched in what could presumably be holy water, and massive, bleeding gashes littered his body. How, though, was he free right now? And where was Dean?

The demon didn't respond, but merely tutted: "Poor thing. The angel's did a nice job on you. Who would've thought?"

Laura tried to struggle against the demon's firm hold on her, but Alastair simply smiled as he dug his fingers deep into one of her open wounds.

Whimpering in pain, Laura continued to fight the demon: "Where's Dean?" she asked fiercely. "Dean!" she shouted frantically as the demon began to carry her towards the door.

"Shut up," he growled, clearly a bit weaker than usual and struggling to hold onto the thrashing woman: "He's a lifeless heap on the floor. No one can save you now."

The brunette's eyes widened. Dead? No. Not possible.

As her mind raced about how she could escape, Laura heard someone enter the room.

"Drop the girl," came Castiel's gravelly voice.

Alastair responded fiercely: "No can do, sport. Lilith wants her belated Christmas gift."

"If you think you will be able to leave here with her, you are sorely mistaken," he glared at the demon. "Now drop the girl or experience the wrath of Heaven."

Alastair liked his chances of a one-on-one showdown with the angel, so a smug smirk crept across his face as he responded with a shrug: "Okay."

Not only did he drop Laura, he tossed her aside like a rag-doll, and her all ready broken body slammed onto the cold, hard floor. She was too weak to care and too numb to feel her cracked bones break even more. Laura simply watched on bleary eyed, as the demon and angel fought viciously before her.

Alastair was stronger than Castiel, as he rammed him into the wall. A sharp nail was sticking out, so the white-eyed demon lifted the angel up and hung him from it by his back. A sickening squishing sound could be heard as the nail dug deep into Castiel's flesh.

The angel was indeed in pain, though he looked over at Laura. He allowed this human to be maimed; he could not allow Alastair to take her to Lilith. He had failed this woman once… he could not do it again.

"It's a shame I don't know how to kill you pesky, winged freaks, but all I _can_ do is send you back to heaven," Alastair mockingly wagged his finger at the struggling Castiel.

Holding the angel by the neck and digging his back deeper onto the nail, the demon then began to chant some Latin spell. From Laura's position on the bloody floor, her now shivering body could barely make out the scene unfolding before her. Her dimming blue-green eyes faintly saw blue lights coming from Castiel's wide eyes and mouth, and she knew what was happening: Alastair was pulling the angel from his vessel. She wanted desperately to help, but every inch of her felt as if it was shutting down. This was it… she was dying.

As she felt herself slipping away, she heard someone else enter the room; yet again, it was not who she expected. Samuel Winchester walked in with his arm raised and flung Alastair off of Castiel and into the hard concrete wall. He pressed the demon back with even more force, cracking the wall a bit as Alastair said something to mock the youngest Winchester.

Sam ignored it and ordered that the demon tell him who was killing the angels and how they were doing it. An extremely weak Castiel was slumped onto the floor, and he, like Laura, watched on in both awe and horror. Whilst interrogating the white-eyed demon, Sam appeared different. Darker. Perhaps evil, even.

As he continued to slowly exorcise the demon with his mind, Sam made a fist. Alastair cried out in agony as he struggled against the hunter's psychic powers.

"Not us," the demon gasped, his eyes rolling white. "Not doing it!"

"I don't believe you!" Sam yelled, twisting his fist more and more.

Alastair writhed in pain and yelped: "It's not demons! Lilith isn't doing it!"

Sam halted his assault so that the demon could talk: "We don't know who's behind it, but if it were us, Lilith wouldn't just have us kill a _couple_ of angels… she'd have us slaughter them all."

The demon grinned now, realizing he had convinced the youngest Winchester that he was, indeed, telling the truth. Then Alastair said haughtily: "So go ahead. Send me back to hell… if you got enough juice."

Sam smirked back dangerously: "I'm stronger than that now… I can kill."

Alastair's eyes widened in fear as Sam re-opened his hand and took a step forward. Deep inside the demon's thrashing body came an orange light, which soon lit up inside him, revealing the outline of his skeleton. Sam pressed harder, though this feat appeared oddly easy for him, and finally in a burst of light, the screaming demon fell onto the floor, lifeless.

Sam stood there for a moment or two admiring his work and enjoying what he had just accomplished, but he soon felt eyes probing him from behind. He turned around and saw Castiel's disturbed blue eyes staring at him. Sam, however, did not have time for the angel's hypocritical judgments. The youngest Winchester needed to rush both his brother and the now barely breathing brunette to the hospital.

Running over to Laura, he scooped her up into his big, toned arms. When her eyes didn't open and she didn't respond, Sam called softly: "Laura?"

Her weak, raspy voice replied, though her eyes were still closed: "I'm still here."

And with that, Sam exited the room, leaving a very troubled, battered, and guilty angel in the dark corner.

* * *

Laura woke up in a bright white hospital room. Taking a few minutes to examine her location, she tentatively tried to sit up in the bed. As she did so, pangs of pain were sent throughout her body, causing her to wince.

"Yeah, I wouldn't move around for a while," came Sam's voice. He was standing in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee in his hand; it didn't look like he had slept for a while, and knowing him he was waiting in worry until he knew both Laura and Dean would be okay.

Laura stubbornly sat up, hissing the entire time until she came to a comfortable position: "How's your brother?"

Sam's somewhat lighthearted expression dropped as he replied: "He just got the respirator taken off, but he hasn't woken up yet."

Laura gazed up at the worried youngest Winchester and responded softly: "He's gonna be okay, Sam."

Sam nodded and sighed: "I know, but how are you feeling?"

His brown eyes examined the battered young woman sitting in front of him. Her face was cut up and bruised something awful. She had stitches across her scalp and on her swollen lip. Her left eye was black and blue and her cheekbone was about twice its size. The doctors had also informed him that besides the obvious head trauma and concussion, the brunette also lost most of her blood from the deep lacerations on her back, arms, and legs. Laura had a couple of broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and her two shoulders also had to be put back in their sockets. What disturbed the doctors even more was how she had a chunks of skin fileted off of her stomach and hip and she also seemed to have massive internal bleeding in most of her organs (no doubt from an angelic magic trick by Uriel).

"Like I was just tortured by Clarence," Laura responded dryly. Sensing her response was a bit too honest, the brunette then tried to lighten the mood a bit. Smiling, she added: "Bet the doctors didn't know what to make of me, huh?"

Sam nodded his head, and admitted: "Yeah, both you and Dean were kinda hard to explain."

"What did you say?"

"Said me and Dean heard screamin' from a house, so we ran in and found some psycho doing that to you. The guy attacked Dean and by the time I finally got him off…" Sam droned on, as Laura began to laugh.

"And they bought that," she giggled in amusement, but had to quickly stifle the laughs because she was so sore.

Sam chuckled and shrugged: "I guess they did."

Laura shook her head, still smiling, but soon her grin faded. The memories of Sam killing Alastair flooded back into her mind, and she couldn't believe how different Sam had appeared then versus now. The youngest Winchester standing before her, with his deep, caring eyes and pleasant demeanor was completely replaced by someone else just a few hours ago. That Sam was scary and even appeared a bit insane.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, sensing her troubled thoughts.

"Sam, can I ask you something?" she asked.

The tall hunter nodded his head, so she continued: "How did you do it? How did you kill Alastair?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably and lied: "I don't know. Just getting stronger I guess."

Laura stared him hard in face, clearly unconvinced: "I saw what you did to Samhain, and the demon that killed Pam… I saw how much you struggled with those, and it was just exorcising them… now you can kill like it's no big deal?"

"I guess so," the youngest Winchester shrugged, hoping the brunette would drop the conversation altogether.

"We both know that's a complete lie," the young woman folded her stiff arms.

Sam didn't respond, so she pushed even more: "I don't know what you're doing with Ruby, but I got a bad feeling about it."

"She's on our side. I get she's a demon so no one wants to trust her, but she's trying help," he defended the demon.

"I don't know how she's makin' you get this strong so fast, but it can't be good… you're changing and it's coming between you and your brother," Laura said somewhat timidly, for Sam was clearly growing more and more agitated. "I know it's none of my business, but these abilities aren't natural Sam… they're dangerous."

"You're right," he said in a low voice: "It is none of your business."

The expression on the younger Winchester's face was stormy, and his harsh words cut into the brunette.

Laura paused before trying to respond: "I wanna stop Lilith just as much as you do, but this isn't the way to do it."

"Like you said before… we don't know you… well you don't know me either, and I'd appreciate it if you just worried about yourself," Sam said darkly. Seeing the hurt spreading across the female's face, the youngest Winchester then felt a bit guilty for being so cross. Attempting to lessen the blow, he dismissed himself: "I'm gonna go check on, Dean. I'm glad you're okay."

And with that, Sam left the brunette alone in her hospital room.

* * *

It was nighttime as Laura sat in her bed, her reeling mind preventing her from sleeping. She was leafing through a magazine, barely paying any attention to the pictures when there was a knock at her door. Looking up from the perfume ad she had been staring at for the last five minutes, the brunette saw the weakened figure of Dean Winchester in her doorway. His face, like her own, was swollen, cut up, and bruised.

Hobbling in, it appeared he had been upset recently, but Laura couldn't blame him. What he underwent was definitely traumatic, but good old, reliable Dean forced the largest smile he could as he gingerly sat beside her bed.

"You look good… considering," he said hoarsely. Laura noticed bruises around his neck from where Alastair had probably strangled him.

"Thanks," she responded half-heartedly, closing the magazine and tossing it onto her bedside table.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment or two, before Dean's shaky voice blurted out: "I'm so sorry, Laura."

The brunette's blue-green eyes gazed upon the distraught man sitting beside her. His green eyes were glassy and he could not look up to face her.

"You didn't do anything," she responded softly, feeling absolutely horrible for the man.

"I… I should have known somethin' was up. We tried to call you after you ran off, but you didn't answer. I should have looked for you," his voice was thick with guilt.

"You wouldn't have found me anyway," she smirked. Dean had to chuckle a bit knowing the psychic was right. If she wanted to be left alone and put her mind to it, there would be no locating the young woman.

Dean looked up at her, trying his hardest to fight back tears. He couldn't understand how calm she was after being tortured like that. She looked so pitiful lying in that bed, broken and bruised, but the oldest Winchester couldn't help but think about how beautiful… and strong she was.

"How are you holding' up?" she asked, looking deep into his bright green eyes.

"Fine. A few cuts and bruises and internal bleeding, but I still look a Hell of a lot better than you," he joked, though Laura could see right through his tough façade.

"That's not what I meant," the brunette shook her head.

Dean's smile faded, as he tried to play dumb: "I don't know what…"

"Yes you do. You know I know about what happened down there… _and_ what they made you do to save me," she practically whispered. Her heart slowly broke as she saw the tears welling up in his eyes. "None of this is your fault…"

As her delicate hand reached out and grabbed his own, Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from breaking down.

"But it is my fault… all of this is… this whole damn apocalypse is," the eldest Winchester choked, bitterly shaking his head.

Laura realized what must have happened during Dean's time spent alone with Alastair. She had prayed the hunter would never find out, for she knew the truth could possibly break him.

"He told you, didn't he?" she mumbled, looking down.

Dean's head shot up as he gazed at the battered woman sitting before him.

"How long did you know?" he practically demanded as his sadness was replaced with anger.

"Since before I met you," she answered quietly, afraid to look at him.

A laugh of disbelief came from the oldest Winchester: "And you couldn't have told me?"

"How am I supposed to bring that up to someone? 'Hey, you broke the first seal and jumpstarted Judgment Day'… I don't think so," she tried to be a bit humorous in her response, but Dean did not appreciate it.

"Not like it changes anything anyway," he said bleakly.

"Dean, look at me," Laura commanded him sharply.

Dean dolefully obeyed as he swallowed the massive lump in his throat.

"We're gonna make this right… we're gonna fix this. Don't put the whole world on your shoulders. You aren't in this alone," she squeezed his hand tightly.

Dean blinked back a few tears and turned away from the young woman. His weakness had not only messed up his and Sammy's futures, but it also took away the happy life Laura once had. The world was going to end for them all, and it was his entire fault. So why was this woman trying to comfort his sorry ass for destroying her chances of ever having a normal existence again?

"You need to forgive yourself," she continued, looking so deep into his green eyes that she seemed to be examining his broken soul.

"Why should I?" he spat miserably, his self-loathing very apparent.

Now Laura was becoming mad: "Because you have no choice. You need to get passed this and be strong! The world depends on it. I depend on it. _Sam_ depends on it!"

Dean's eyes met her passionate blue-green ones as she went on: "You got dealt a shitty hand, but you can't fold on this one."

Dean nodded slowly, knowing that the fierce psychic was right. Soon a small smirk crept across his face, causing her to inquire about its cause.

"I just never met someone like you before. A massive pain in the ass, but you just don't give up, do you?" he said with honest admiration.

Laura grinned and shook her head: "I'm stubborn… drove Uriel crazy that I wouldn't even speak."

Dean's expression grew violent at the mention of the African American angel's name.

"Damn shame I didn't get to go a few rounds with that bastard," the oldest Winchester seethed.

Laura looked at the handsome hunter in confusion: "What do you mean?"

"He's dead," he responded between his teeth, thinking of all the things he wished he could have done to that son of a bitch for harming her.

"How? Was it Sam?" she asked, completely alarmed. How strong was this guy becoming?

Dean glanced up from her with a perplexed and worried look: "No. Cas said it was Anna. Uriel turned against us and was the one killing the angels."

Laura nodded her head slowly, as a troubled Dean asked: "Why would you think Sam did that? He can't kill an angel."

"He killed Alastair… who knows what he could do," the brunette mused, as the eldest Winchester's eyes widened.

"He what?" he asked in shock.

Laura knew Dean would not enjoy hearing this at all, but she needed to warn him: "Sam's losing control, Dean. Whatever he and Ruby are doing… it's bad… real bad. Castiel was even freaked by it. I could tell."

"No… if he did it, it was to save your life… if he was struggling to control it, he would tell me," Dean was in denial. He knew that Ruby was bad news; recently he felt that his deepest fears of losing his kid brother to those damned demonic powers seemed to be coming true, but he couldn't face that fact. Not now. Not after what he had just found out.

"He's changing, and it's taking a hold of him. He needs help," Laura pressed with raised eyebrows.

Dean didn't want to hear this. It couldn't be true. Sammy has been lying about a lot of things lately, but he couldn't have killed Alastair. It wasn't possible. Nothing that kid did with that demon slut could possibly make him that strong. Laura was wrong.

"He probably just used Ruby's knife," the oldest Winchester backtracked.

Laura was growing frustrated with Dean's inability to see the truth: "You know he's different. He's spiraling. You need to stop him cause Ruby's messing him up bad…"

"No!" Dean cut her off, getting up from his chair. "You're wrong. He's fine, and if he wasn't he'd come talk to me."

Laura was growing annoyed. Why wouldn't he listen to her?

"I'm not lying, Dean. Listen to me! He needs help!"

"He's _my_ family. Not yours. If he needs help, I'll take care of it, but don't go makin' problems when there aren't any… there's enough crap goin' on," he barked.

"Making problems?" the brunette asked in astonishment and anger. "I'm trying to stop one!"

"Sam is _not_ a problem!" the hunter growled.

"I'm not saying that. I…" she began to explain herself, but was cut off.

"No. I don't wanna hear it," Dean continued to vigorously defend his brother.

Laura glared at the impossible man who was scowling back down at her. Shaking her head, the psychic snapped: "Fine! You _clearly_ know what's best, right? Since you've been doing a great job handling the situation so far."

"You know what? Screw you," he spat. "You act so high and mighty all the time… like you have all the answers. Well then explain to me why you're doin' jack shit about stoppin' Lilith, too."

"Maybe cause you guys keep getting in the way and _not_ listening to me!" she cried in infuriation.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. We won't be in the way anymore," he snarled. "Stay away from me and my brother, okay?" he asked as he walked towards the door.

"Gladly," she smiled sarcastically back, and without another word, Dean stormed out of the room, now with a lot more to think about then he ever wanted.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey guys! So sorry for the slow update! I've been slammed with my first set of exams/mid-terms; hopefully by next week I'll be back to posting a couple chapters a week. Again, I own nothing but my OC. Okay! Enjoy! :) **

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

"Check."

Bobby Singer scratched his graying beard in frustration, moving his final pawn in front of the psychic's bishop.

Taking his last line of defense, Laura repeated herself again with a tone of extreme boredom: "Check."

Bobby sighed and stared at the board: the sea of black chess pieces had his poor, lonely king surrounded. Shaking his head, he took a sip from his beer bottle and moved his white game piece back a space.

Laura was staring lazily out of his kitchen window, concentrating on the thick raindrops splashing on the windowsill. Taking her own bottle of beer, she guzzled down the rest of its contents before moving her rook and unenthusiastically stating: "Checkmate."

Leaning back in his chair, Bobby shook his head: "Can't believe you talked me into puttin' money on this."

The surly hunter stuffed his hand into his pocket, yanked out his wallet, and threw a few bills onto the table.

"Next time, we're playin' poker," he grumbled.

"I don't want your money," the psychic responded with a half-hearted smile. Getting up, she headed to the fridge, asking over her shoulder: "Want another one?"

Bobby watched the brunette intently. It had been two months since Laura had been abducted and unjustly tortured, and although most of her injuries had healed, the seasoned hunter knew that the young woman was not in a good place.

When she was released from the hospital, Bobby practically had to drag her back to his home to rest until she was fully recovered. Now, after eight weeks of being cooped up in Mr. Singer's modest South Dakota home, it was obvious that Laura was climbing the walls.

She was dying for a hunt. It gave her something to strive towards and focus on, rather than wallowing in the dark hole she felt growing inside her. Because her night terrors were rapidly increasing, Laura could not get more than a couple hours of sleep a night. She was obsessing over trying to figure out her powers, which were beginning to become uncontrollable. The voices were incessant, she kept seeing things out of the corner of her eyes, and worst of all, during one meditation session, the brunette accidentally levitated all of the furniture in the room. Once she opened her eyes and saw that sight, she panicked out and lost focus, causing everything to come crashing down. Needless to say, she had a lot of explaining to do when Mr. Singer came home to his guest room being redecorated with the broken remnants of furniture.

Laura was desperately trying to regain control, but she couldn't deny how hopelessly lost she was. She wished Pamela were there, and even tried to contact her late best friend. After days of no response, the young psychic gave up on it. Maybe Pam was busy, or maybe she simply passed on all ready. Either way, Laura felt that she was utterly alone in this, and was beginning to surrender to the darkness that was taking over her inner thoughts.

"Hello?" Bobby repeated himself, snapping the brunette out of her deep thoughts.

"Ugh… what?" Laura asked a bit awkwardly, for the older hunter was eyeing her closely.

"I said I'd take another one," he responded slowly, as Laura realized she had been hovering over the open fridge for a very long time.

"Oh, yeah. Right," she mumbled grabbing two more cold bottles from the refrigerator.

"Are you all right?" Bobby inquired as she handed the beer to him.

"Yeah," she forced herself to smile brightly. "Just a bit tired."

Bobby nodded slowly, but Mr. Singer was still not convinced.

"You know, I was thinkin' I should cook dinner tonight," Laura said brightly, trying to forget her morbid thoughts for the time being.

The bearded hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise: "Oh yeah?"

"I mean, I figured I owe you for takin' me in like this," the psychic explained with a shrug.

"After twistin' your arm," he pointed out with a small grin.

"Well yeah," she admitted, but then continued: "but still… you've been really kind, and I don't take it lightly."

Laura gazed down at Bobby while he silently sipped his beer. He was a kind man. Sure he was a bit sarcastic and bitter, but Pamela had explained to Laura that Mr. Singer had not had an easy life, and for someone who grew up with an abusive father and was later forced to murder his possessed wife, Mr. Singer remained a good person. He never put himself first, and the brunette could tell that he was exhausted from taking care of everyone else's problems. She wanted to do something for him, and although he was proud by nature, she figured she could sway him with the prospects of a home-cooked meal.

"I guess I could go for a good dinner," he muttered, trying to appear less touched by gesture than he really was. It had been a long time since someone took care of him in any way, let alone cook for him.

"Perfect! What do you like?" Laura asked, thoroughly excited that his stomach had won him over.

Bobby looked at her in amusement as she scurried over to the cabinets and searched through all of his ingredients.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not picky," he responded.

Laura turned around and examined the trucker-hat wearing man sitting before her.

"I take you for a more meat and potatoes kinda guy, but you feelin' adventurous?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

A bit nervous, but not wanting to come off rude, Mr. Singer replied tentatively: "Jus' as long as you don't poison me."

Laura giggled, and waved him off.

"Oh, hush! I'm a great cook!" Turning her attention back to his cabinet, she began pulling an array of spices from it. "I'll make one of my mom's recipes."

Mrs. Norwood was an amazing cook. Laura used to come home from school and smell the rich aromas of her mother's latest creations. Dinner was never boring at her household, and once her mom mastered everything from Italian to Armenian cuisine, she taught her two daughters to do the same thing. Laura missed it. She missed home… and her family. Laura hoped that by sharing a piece of her old life with someone like Bobby she would be a bit less homesick and depressed.

"Knock yourself out," Bobby muttered, leaning back in his chair.

The rest of that evening was spent with Laura entertaining the usually lonely man. She put on the radio, sang to some songs he figured were popular with kids her age, and cooked away a storm. The only times she stopped would be to grab him or her another beer, or make a comment about how her mom used to prepare the dish.

The hunter knew she must have missed home. Who wouldn't? She didn't grow up in this life like Sam and Dean did. Laura was like him. They both grew up in a completely different world. Sure they had their own set of problems, but they were blissfully naïve to what was really out there. They grew up being able to imagine a happy future for themselves: one involving marriage, kids, and maybe even a dog; a future where their biggest issues were their boring job and paying the mortgage, but unfortunately that peaceful existence was stolen from both of them.

In a way, Bobby envied the Winchesters for never knowing that life. Sure they longed for a white-picket fence kind of existence, but since they had never experienced it, they couldn't ache for it the way he and Laura did.

Sitting down at that table, looking at the piping hot meal being served onto his plate, Bobby felt a twinge of the life he once knew. A life where his wife and he would sit down every night, eat a good dinner, and talk about something other than hunting. Gazing across the table at Laura, who was now chatting away about her family and childhood, Mr. Singer couldn't help but smirk a bit. For the first time in a long time, he felt that this junkyard house was an actual home.

* * *

"You sure you don't want any more?" Laura asked, beginning to wrap up the leftovers.

Looking as if he were going to be sick at the thought of another bite, Bobby groaned: "No, I'm stuffed."

The brunette beamed proudly and said merrily: "I can't believe you never had jambalaya before…"

"Well now I'll be eatin' it for weeks," he said, staring at the massive pile of leftovers she threw into the fridge.

Laura smirked as she cleared the table and brought the dirty dishes over to the sink.

"I'll do the dishes," Bobby offered, forcing his overly full self up from the table.

"Don't worry about it," the brunette responded, turning the water on.

Bobby turned the sink off so that the young woman would stop and look at him.

"Kid, I got it," he said sternly.

Laura grinned and responded playfully: "Who you callin' a kid?"

"Well yah are," Mr. Singer said, suppressing his own smile.

"Whatever you say, gramps," the young woman teased, handing the bearded hunter the sponge.

Trying to appear as sour as possible, Bobby Singer had to bite his cheek to keep from grinning back at the thoroughly amused psychic. Gruffly taking the sponge, he turned the sink back on and began washing the dishes.

As he scrubbed the plates, the phone began to ring. Before he could stop what he was doing to answer it, Laura told him that she would get it. Pausing, she stared at the several phones in confusion, not sure which one was ringing. As if knowing what she was thinking, Bobby said: "It's the regular house phone."

Picking up the only unlabeled telephone, Laura answered: "Singer residence."

Shaking his head and chuckling, Bobby continued to clean.

"Bobby?" a deep male's voice asked. "You got a chick over? You sly dog!"

Laura immediately recognized the voice as she felt herself become immediately irritated.

"It's just me, Dean," Laura tried to come off less annoyed than she was.

Dean's voice immediately became more gruff as he responded: "Oh. Put Bobby on the phone."

"Could say it nicer," Laura snottily replied, walking over to the hand Bobby the telephone.

"Would you just do it!" the eldest Winchester snapped as a completely vexed Laura offered the phone to Mr. Singer.

"It's for you," she said as she held it as far away from her as possible, as if it were smelly trash.

Looking from his annoyed companion, back to the phone, Bobby could only assume it was one of the Winchesters, and he had an intimation as to which one it was. Turning off the water and wiping his hands on the dishtowel, Bobby Singer answered the telephone.

"Hello?" he said, looking over at the brunette who was now aggressively drying the washed pots. "Chuck what? Never heard of… what?" Bobby now exclaimed, causing the young woman to look over at him with a somewhat concerned expression.

"No… I've never heard about anythin' like this," Bobby scratched his beard a bit. "I'll look into it, but I ain't promisin' anything… well go talk to him yourself then!" he said in exasperation.

Laura gazed at the hunter as he put the dishrag over his shoulder and adjusted his trucker hat. Wondering if the Winchesters were in trouble, she told herself it wasn't her problem. They made it clear they didn't want her around, and she was more than happy to stay away.

"And you're sure he's human? All right. Give me a few hours and I'll get back to you," Bobby sighed. Then he looked over at the young woman as she continued to dry the dishes. "She's fine," he said in a low voice, "She's been stayin' with me… yes I invited her to, yah idjit."

Bobby then heard Laura laugh and saw her shaking her head in disbelief (she knew that Dean must have said something rude about her).

"Why don't you just do the job and quit your bellyachin'," Mr. Singer said before smirking a bit despite himself. Shaking his head, he then hung up the phone, walked back over to the sink, and began to help Laura dry the rest of the dishes.

"What was that about?" the brunette tried to come across as nonchalant as possible.

"Gotta look up some guy named Chuck Shurley," he responded dully.

"Why?" Laura asked, thoroughly confused.

"He's, ugh, a writer for some book series," the hunter said with an uncomfortable expression.

Laura laughed haughtily: "You expect me to believe Dean reads."

Bobby tried to appear stern, but Laura could make out a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What's so important about a random author?" she asked curiously.

Bobby tried to dismiss the topic as casually as possible: "It's probably nothin'…" he said. Clearing his throat, Mr. Singer then stated: "Well I gotta get to it. Thanks again for dinner."

Laura smiled back and told him that the meal was no problem, but as the hunter left her alone in the kitchen, the psychic's grin faded. He was hiding something from her, and she intended to find out what that was.


	24. Chapter 24

**Second chapter this weekend! Yippee! The favorites, follows, reviews, and critiques are wonderful! Everyone who's been supporting the story and giving me their thoughts/opinions are really helping me improve on the story, so keep it up cause I really appreciate it! I don't own anything by my OC, obviously, anddd that's about it! READ ON!**

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

As usual, Bobby awoke with the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through his house. Slowly rolling out of bed with a tired grunt, the groggy hunter shuffled down the staircase and entered the kitchen, expecting to find the psychic a sweaty mess from her usual morning work out. Laura had been trying to get back into shape since she had been released from the hospital and had been diligently following the grueling exercise regiment that she had put together. The constant work outs, meditations, and spell work had left the brunette little time to sleep, and though worried, Bobby Singer couldn't help but be impressed by her dedication.

The seasoned hunter was so accustomed to waking up and finding her reading or researching after her strenuous morning runs, sipping on a cup of black coffee, that when he entered the empty kitchen, he immediately became a bit alarmed. The coffee pot was still hot, but other than that, there was no sign of the young woman. Then he noticed it. Lying on the counter, with his massive coffee mug placed on top of it, was a note.

_'Morning Gramps. I made you some coffee, but depending on when you wake up, you may need to heat it up. I also left you a couple pastries from the bakery down the block as a thank you. I really do appreciate your hospitality, but we both knew I was gonna leave at some point. I did some research of my own on Chuck Shurley, so I'm sure you know why I have to talk to him. I'm sorry I left on such short notice, but I knew you'd try to convince me to stay. Feel free to warn the Winchesters that I will be in town shortly. Take care of yourself, Bobby. I'll talk to you soon. xo, Laura'_

As Bobby finished the letter, he muttered to himself in frustration: "Balls."

The bearded hunter should have known to keep his mouth shut about the Winchester's recent case. Chuck Shurley was a writer all right. Author of a little known book series entitled 'Supernatural,' Mr. Shurley was not as innocent as he seemed. The series of books followed the lives of the Winchester brothers, and everything that was published was indeed a fact. Sam and Dean were obviously suspicious of how this man could know about all of things that he wrote about, and for good reason. Abilities like that were never a coincidence or good sign, and although they were pretty sure he was a human, they still needed to figure out what was going on.

Picking up the telephone, Bobby immediately dialed Laura's number. As it rang, his mind was racing with numerous worrisome thoughts. First, Laura was in a weakened condition and should not be putting herself in a possibly dangerous situation. Second, Bobby knew that if the Winchesters found out that she was in town, there would surely be a blow out. And worst of all, even if Chuck could clear some things up for the brunette about her abilities, maybe those answers would lead her down an even more treacherous road.

Impatiently waiting for the young woman to pick up, Bobby paced the kitchen. He was about to hang up and call Dean when the oddly chipper female's voice answered his phone call.

"Hey Bobby," she responded. He could tell she was driving by the sound of wind blowing in the background.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Oh come on! I've been stuck on the sidelines long enough," she said merrily.

"We don't know enough about this guy for you to go runnin' off to meet him," the hunter scolded her a bit.

He heard Laura chuckle as she responded: "You worry too much. I'll be fine."

"And what if somethin' happens?"

"Dumb and Dumber are in town. If I run into any problems I promise I'll call them…" she sighed, trying to appease the unhappy man on the other end of the line.

"They're not gonna be happy about this," Bobby grumbled, still angry with himself for slipping up.

"Trust me, I'll be avoiding them as much as possible," Laura said dryly.

"I'm gonna have to tell them you're comin'."

"Go right ahead," the brunette retorted. "But you know I need to talk to this guy… I need to get some answers."

Bobby understood why the young woman felt the urge to meet this mysterious writer. Hell, if he were in her shoes he would be doing the same thing; still, he wasn't comfortable with it.

"And what if you don't like the answers you get?"

Laura paused a bit before answering: "I probably won't, but I need to figure this out. I'm not gonna be able to help stop Lilith if I don't even know what I can do or why. I have to know the truth, regardless of how bad it is."

Bobby sighed in miserable surrender. Laura was right. As if sensing his discomfort, the brunette then added: "I'll be careful. Don't worry."

"If you need me, call, all right?" he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling completely unsettled about the situation.

"Yes, gramps," he could hear the smile on her face.

Shaking his head, Bobby Singer hung up the phone and muttered to himself: "Good goin' Bobby."

* * *

Laura pulled up in front of a dilapidated suburban home and got out of her '66 Mustang. Walking up the creaking steps, she knocked on the door and waited. After a moment or two of no response or signs of movement, she rapped on the door even harder.

"I know you're in there, and I don't have all day," she called in aggravation. Her head had been killing her for the last couple of hours and the lack of sleep was making her even crankier.

The sound of someone unlocking the deadbolt could be heard, and soon the chipped door swung open, revealing a somewhat jumpy man.

The scruffy, exhausted looking man with dark blue eyes looked at the young woman blankly, waiting for her to state the purpose of her visit. Laura examined the man. He had dark circles under his eyes, a scraggily beard, and was wearing a dirty bathrobe that sorely needed to be washed.

"Yeah?" he asked as Laura caught the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Chuck Shurley, right?" she verified his identity.

His tired eyes suddenly became nervous and shifty as he nodded his head.

"Also known as Carver Edlund?" the brunette continued with raised eyebrows.

Chuck immediately tried to shut the door in her face, but the young woman stuck a firm arm out.

"I really need to speak with you," she said forcefully, as he eyed the attractive woman uneasily.

"It's not a good time," he tried to turn the brunette away.

"What? Sam and Dean get to meet you and I don't?" she cocked her head to the side, her blue-green eyes piercing his own.

Chuck groaned, muttering: "You're Laura, aren't you?"

A brilliant smile spread across the young woman's pretty face: "Bingo."

* * *

"Listen, I'll tell you the same thing I told them. I don't know how I've been doing this," Mr. Shurley shook his head while chugging the rest of his glass of whiskey.

Seated in his cluttered and somewhat dirty living room, Laura intently watched the severely anxious man.

"I'm not here because of that," she responded simply.

A bit confused, Chuck asked: "So why are you here?"

Laura leaned back in the chair and folded her arms: "You're the one writing the story… so you tell me."

Furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head, the author replied honestly: "I don't know."

Sighing, the brunette explained: "I wanna know why I can do the things I can."

Chuck looked at the young woman apologetically: "I wish I knew. You're the mysterious new character in my book…"

Laura felt herself growing frustrated. Could anyone help her figure her abilities out?

"So you have no idea about what's going on?"

"Not much. Just that whatever your powers are… they're rare…"

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered in disappointment.

"Listen, I feel like I should tell you," Chuck said nervously, causing Laura to look back up at him expectantly. "Lilith is going to be in town."

Laura tried to appear less frightened than she really was: "And?"

"She's here for Sam, but if she finds out you're here…" the trepidation in his voice was growing.

"What? She'll try to kill me?" Laura inquired with a tone of boredom.

Chuck shook his head with fearful eyes: "No."

"Then what?"

"She has plans for you."

"Care to elaborate?" the brunette was growing impatient.

Getting up to pour himself another glass, he offered the young psychic one. Accepting it half-heartedly, she waited for the author to sit back down.

Guzzling down half of his glass's contents, Chuck continued: "It has something to do with Lucifer… and some prophecy."

"Well that sounds good," the psychic tucked a piece of hair behind her ear fretfully.

Mr. Shurley was just as solemn as they both sipped on the burning alcoholic beverage.

"I'm assuming you don't know what this prophecy says…" she said miserably.

Chuck looked at her weakly: "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault…" she shook her head morosely. "I'm so stupid… should've known you wouldn't be able to tell me anything…"

The author felt guilty and tried to comfort the young woman sitting across from him: "If it makes you feel better, I think you'll be able to stop it."

Laura looked up and asked with a melancholy expression: "Stop what? The apocalypse? I thought that was Dean's job…"

Making a face, Chuck responded: "I know… but things are changing. A few days ago I thought the story was going in one direction, and now I see it going somewhere else."

"How the Hell am I supposed to stop it?" the overwhelmed brunette asked with wide eyes.

Mr. Shurley shrugged and appeared just as troubled.

Before anything else could be stated, Chuck's front door opened as Sam and Dean Winchester stormed into the author's house.

As if her day could not get any worse, Laura groaned, preparing herself for the impending argument coming her way.


	25. Chapter 25

**WOW! 50 reviews and counting! You guys are literally THE BEST EVER! The follows and favorites are amazing, too, but please give me as much feedback as you can! The better I get, the more enjoyable this story is for you to read! Thanks again for the continued loyal support! I will hopefully upload one more chapter this week, but not in the next couple of days! Okay, well I'm shutting up now. ENJOY!**

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

"H-hi guys," Chuck greeted the Winchesters awkwardly.

Dean appeared livid whilst his younger brother, though calmer, was equally unhappy.

"You knew she was coming and you didn't think to tell us?" Dean demanded, getting into Chuck's face.

"I swear I didn't see this coming," the author stuttered.

Gripping him by the collar, Dean glared at the writer, as did Sam from afar. The panicking Mr. Shurley kept trying to make his case, but both brothers were not backing down.

"Will you leave the guy alone," Laura said lazily from her seat on the couch.

Dean shot the calm brunette a dirty look as he gruffly released the author. Glancing back at Chuck, who smiled weakly at him, Dean commanded that he remain in the living room while they spoke to the psychic alone. Nodding submissively, Chuck sat down and nervously played with his empty glass.

Laura, on the other hand, did not seem remotely intimidated by how angry the Winchesters were; rather, she found their attitudes a bit entertaining. Stepping outside onto the porch, she greeted them both with sarcastic pleasantness: "Happy to see me, are we?"

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from us," Dean barked.

Although Sam did not like the idea of the brunette being involved, as well, he felt guilty for being so rude to her the last time they saw her.

"Dean…" he said in a low voice, but Laura spoke over him.

"Will you get over yourselves? I'm here for my own reasons," she folded her arms.

"Oh yeah, to find some answers about your freaky powers," Dean mocked her.

Laura simply rolled her eyes, too tired to argue.

"Whatever. The guys a dead end anyway," she shrugged, still preoccupied by the idea that she alone would possibly have to stop the apocalypse.

"What did he say?" Sam's curiosity got the better of him.

Dean gave his brother a disapproving look for not scolding the young woman, but everyone ignored it.

"Not much. He doesn't know anything," Laura lied. Then she quickly added: "Well besides the fact that Lilith's gonna be in town tonight."

Sam and Dean exchanged surprised glances as the psychic continued: "She's coming for you, Sam."

"Why?" the youngest Winchester asked darkly, feeling rage beginning to bubble up inside of him.

"I don't know. You guys kinda interrupted my chat with Mr. Edlund," she pointed out with an irritated tone.

"Well if Lilith's comin' I say we leave town," Dean thought out loud.

"Good idea. You two go," Laura raised her eyebrows.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Sam spoke up. "This is the first time we may have one up on her."

Dean and Laura looked at the youngest Winchester with puzzled expressions.

"And?" the oldest Winchester inquired.

"And we know she's coming… we can set a trap for her," Sam said confidently.

Dean shook his head, vehemently protesting: "No way. That's too dangerous. We don't even know if we can stop her if we do trap her."

"Well we gotta try!" Sam argued, seeing that this could be their only chance.

"What if this is what she wants," Dean proposed a worrisome idea. "If she's comin' for you, maybe she's planning on us trying to make a move against her."

"How would she know we're expecting her in town?" Sam persisted, shaking his head.

"She could be here all ready… watching us," Dean argued back.

Sam was growing frustrated: "This may be our only shot at killing her! We gotta take it!"

"Not if we aren't prepared," Dean raised his voice.

"So you wanna run away and hide?" the youngest Winchester continued to challenge his brother.

"I'm sayin' we gotta be smart about this," Dean said through his teeth, trying not to yell at his thickheaded kid brother.

During the small quarrel occurring between the two Winchesters, Laura remained silent, for her headache was beginning to become unbearable. As they bickered, they took no notice to their unusually silent companion. She pinched the bridge of her slender nose and shut her eyes, beginning to grow nauseas. Her brain was throbbing as a dizzy spell swept over her, and Laura had an overwhelming sensation of pressure on her chest.

Sam and Dean's words soon became a garbled mess as other voices began to ring in her ears. They were high pitched and piercing, and Laura could not quite make out what was being said. All she knew is that whoever was speaking was very close and very powerful. Swaying a bit as she stood, the brunette reached out and gripped the doorframe.

Finally noticing the psychic's deteriorating condition, both Sam and Dean immediately stopped their argument.

Grabbing her shoulders to help steady the faint young woman, Dean exclaimed: "Whoa! What's wrong?"

Laura shook her head silently, trying to keep herself from passing out as well as attempting to make out what the voices were saying.

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks as Laura murmured: "Something's coming."

"What is it? Is it Lilith?" Sam asked with an incited tone.

With her eyes clenched shut in pain, Laura shook her head: "No… it's not a demon…"

"Let's get you inside," Dean supported her weight as he and his brother looked around for a potential threat.

As they opened the door and ushered the weakened psychic inside, they soon realized that Chuck was no longer alone in the living room. Standing beside him was Castiel.

As Dean eased Laura onto the couch, Sam charged Chuck.

"What are you doing to her?" he demanded protectively.

Before a fearful Chuck could sputter out any words, Castiel rested a firm hand on the youngest Winchester's shoulder.

"You would do well not to threaten this man," the angel evenly stated.

Still glowering at the author, Sam hissed: "And why's that?"

"Because he's not alone," came the psychic's weakened voice.

Sam looked from Laura back to Castiel.

Nodding his head slowly, the angel confirmed that Chuck was indeed being protected.

"Protected by what?" Dean worriedly asked, still holding Laura up a bit in her seat.

"An archangel," Castiel replied as Sam backed away from the practically hyperventilating writer.

Everyone looked at the angel, expecting an explanation, but once they realized Castiel did not pay attention to their confused looks, Sam spoke up.

"An archangel?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"The strongest weapon heaven has. They are mighty and fierce and absolute. They will dispose of anyone or anything they view as a threat to this man," the gravelly voiced angel explained, gazing at Chuck.

"Why him?" Dean practically laughed.

"He is a prophet of the Lord," Castiel explained as if that should be obvious to them all.

Sam looked angrily at Chuck: "You knew about this?"

"I may have dreamt it…" Chuck admitted sheepishly. "But I didn't think that it was real! I mean, writing myself into the story is one thing… but making myself some sort of god… well that's just plain douchey."

"You aren't a god," Castiel corrected the author. "You're a mouthpiece for the word of God."

"Care to put that in normal people terms?" Dean asked snarkily.

"Laymen's terms," Laura corrected the eldest Winchester weakly, her head still throbbing.

Dean rolled his eyes at her comment and waited for Castiel to further explain.

Picking up one of the many books in the 'Supernatural' series, Castiel turned to look at them all: "These books will one day be called the Winchester Gospels."

Chuck was progressively becoming more and more agitated, but once the angel had made that statement, Mr. Shurley chugged the rest of his whiskey and addressed the group of people standing in his living room with a shaky voice: "I need to go upstairs."

Without another word, the freaked out author retreated up the rickety staircase, muttering to himself frantically.

"He's a prophet?" Dean asked incredulously, staring after Mr. Shurley.

"You should have seen Luke," Castiel stated with an almost amused facial expression.

With the oppressive sensation leaving the room with Chuck, Laura was able to catch her breath. Feeling a lot better, she tried to stand up.

"Take it easy," Dean said in a low voice, trying to stabilize her.

The brunette waved him off and addressed Castiel: "So that thing I was feeling… it was an archangel."

The angel nodded: "Yes. They're very powerful… probably very overwhelming to your senses."

"I think it was trying to speak to me," she said avoiding the intense stares of the Winchesters.

Castiel looked a bit confused, so the psychic continued: "Could I speak to you… in private?"

She felt Sam and Dean's eyes boring holes into her back, but she continued to gaze steadily into Castiel's brilliant blue eyes.

Agreeing to her request, Laura and Castiel disappeared in a whirl of wind, and before she knew it, the psychic was seated on a bench at some park.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around at the peaceful scene.

"In a private location. I assume you heard that Lilith is here for the youngest Winchester," Castiel mused aloud.

Laura nodded her head: "The angel said something about him and her… well…"

The psychic blushed before she could continue: "Sleeping together."

Castiel did not appear remotely surprised and responded: "A deal was prophesized to be made this evening."

"I thought deals with demons were sealed with a kiss," Laura thought out loud.

"Apparently not one this big."

"Do we know what she wants?" Laura asked with a worried expression.

Castiel shook his head with a dark look.

"He's gonna do it… isn't he?" she asked in a low voice.

"It's what Chuck has foreseen," the angel responded simply.

"Well we gotta warn Sam and Dean, then! Maybe if they know it's supposed to happen, they can stop it!" she said eagerly.

"No. We cannot intervene with what has all ready been written," the conflicted angel stated.

"You're kidding right? Sam has free will! He can choose not to do this!" she exclaimed.

"I cannot interfere," his eyes were piercing her fiery blue-green ones.

"Fine, but I will. Take me back right now," she demanded.

Castiel could not look at her in the face as he responded in a low voice: "This park is a days walk back to the prophet's home."

Laura's eyes immediately widened once she realized what the angel was planning on doing.

"No, Cas. You can't leave me here…" she began to say, but it was too late. Suddenly, Laura was sitting alone in the vacant park, with nothing but the sound of chirping birds being heard. "Dammit, Castiel!"

* * *

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked, as he and Sam sat in their motel room.

"Yeah. Remind me to kick the crap out of that winged bastard next time I see him," Laura grumbled as she trudged along the desolate dirt road.

Dean grinned a bit before responding: "And you're positive we won't be able to skip town?"

Laura sighed as she squinted in the brilliant light of the setting sun: "Nope. Bridge is closed which makes my walk back even longer."

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically. "So we're stuck here waiting for Sammy to boink a demon again… perfect…"

Sam shot his older brother a dirty look while he continued to make some hex bags.

"You guys found the ingredients and spell all right?" the psychic asked.

"Yup. Everything's set to keep us nice and hidden," the eldest Winchester replied, glancing at his brother.

"Good. Let's keep it that way," the brunette stated, stepping over some rocks that were in her way.

"Laura, I just thought I should say thank you," Dean practically whispered on the phone. "You didn't need to give us the heads up or let us use your stuff…"

"Don't worry about it," she responded, unable to conceal how pleased she was with his unusually kind words.

Dean grinned, but once he saw Sam looking at him, the eldest Winchester cleared his throat and said seriously: "All right, well we'll talk to you later. Be safe."

"You too," she replied hanging up the phone and cursing a bit to herself as she rolled her ankle in a pothole.

"This plan is stupid," Sam complained, finishing up the hex bags.

"Tell me how you really feel about it, Sammy," Dean tried to sound less irritated than he really was.

Why was his brother being so difficult? Sam had been acting weird for a while now… well, more weird than usual… The eldest Winchester could see his brother becoming more and more aggressive, rash, and temperamental. All Sam seemed to want to be doing lately was hunting down Lilith or killing something, and it scared Dean. Since when was levelheaded Sammy happy to go on some suicide mission to face off with an enemy they weren't ready to take? The only explanation Dean could think of was the one that Laura had given him: whatever Ruby was doing with the younger Winchester was changing him, and definitely not for the better.

"We should be getting ready to kill that bitch. Not be hiding from her," Sam continued unhappily.

Deans shook his head as his patience wore thin: "What? Just cause you took on Alastair you think you can waste Lilith? She's on a way higher payroll and you know it."

Sam was surprised that his brother knew the truth about Alastair's death.

"Laura told you… didn't she?" Sam felt himself growing more and more annoyed at the pushy psychic.

"Not just her. Cas told me, too," Dean responded darkly. "You've got people talkin' and it ain't good."

"And what are they saying?" Sam appeared a bit uneasy.

"Just that we don't know how you're getting this strong, and it can't be natural," Dean was looking at his brother intensely.

"So you agree with them? You think I'm goin' dark side?" Sam asked, completely offended his own brother was turning against him.

"With the way you've been acting lately, yeah I do," Dean replied aggressively.

"It's not what you think," Sam tried to defend himself, but his brother just shook his head.

"You know what? I don't care what it is or why you're doin' it… but it needs to stop. But first, let's just find ourselves a boat and get across that damned river and get the Hell out of dodge," Dean began to gather their things

"No," Sam said darkly.

Dean stopped what he was doing and gazed at his brother with a look of utter disbelief.

"Take the hex bags with you, but I'm staying… and I'm gonna let her find me," the youngest Winchester spoke firmly.

Dean didn't know how to respond, but he knew his kid brother was too stubborn to reason with. He needed to find a way to prevent this from happening, but Sammy would be no help. Incredibly hurt and pissed, Dean threw Sam's duffel hard into his baby brother's chest. Storming towards the door he took one last long, hard look at his unwavering brother before slamming it closed behind him. He needed a plan, and fast.


	26. Chapter 26

**Sorry this took a bit longer than expected, but read/review/follow/favorite/ENJOY! (p.s. - I own nothing!)**

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

A sweaty, exhausted, and completely annoyed Laura Norwood had finally made it back to the prophet's ramshackle home. Stomping up the steps, she tried to yank the door open, but it was locked.

"Dammit!" she growled, feeling her pockets for a bobby pin. After a moment or two she had the sinking feeling that she, yet again, forgot to keep one on her person. "Christ, Laura…"

"Such a fowl mouth from such a delicate thing," came a disapproving voice from right behind her.

Startled, Laura spun around, getting prepared to whip out the gun she had concealed in the back of her pants.

As if reading her mind, the middle aged and balding man smiled and calmly stated: "You won't be needing that."

"Who are you?" Laura demanded, eyeing him intently.

The stranger was tall, around 6'3", and though he was wearing a very expensive business suit, the psychic could tell he had quite the beer gut. He had an arrogant air about him, too, and although his dark blue eyes seemed pleasant enough, Laura couldn't help feeling a bit intimidated by him.

"I don't think that's the question you should be asking," he countered with a small grin, clearly enjoying himself while he toyed with her.

"I'll bite… _what_ are you?" Laura asked snarkily. "Obviously not a spirit or a demon…"

The man chuckled a bit and nodded: "Ah, very good, very good. I see you're getting stronger."

"Are you gonna answer me or not?"

"Certainly not the fearful type either," there was a darkness behind his response as the man continued to steadily gaze at the young woman.

Laura merely folded her arms and refused to respond, so the balding businessman stated: "I am an angel."

Laughing and shaking her head in disdain, the brunette complained: "You guys are like gnats."

"Excuse me?" the angel said with a somewhat dangerous look.

"You guys tortured me and left me in the middle of friggin nowhere… so sorry I'm not _thrilled_ to meet you," Laura pointed out snottily.

The warrior of Heaven's angry expression melted away as he feigned sympathy: "Oh yes. I did hear about that. Uriel was always a bit… militant…"

"Really? I didn't notice," Laura's words dripped with sarcasm.

The angel chortled and mused with a grin: "I see why Castiel has taken such a liking to you."

"Yeah, leaving me in Guam sounds like somethin' you do to a friend," the psychic snorted.

"He was just trying to keep you out of harm's way," the angel defended his own.

Laura raised her eyebrows at the middle aged vessel and responded: "Oh please… he was just making sure I wouldn't mess with Chuck's stupid prophecy."

"Interfering with the affairs of angels is not a wise thing to do… I'm sure you remember what happened to Pamela," the Heavenly host tried to suppress a smug smirk.

As Laura scowled up at him and tried to hold herself back from decking the prick in the face, she responded fiercely: "Well I all ready told Dean, and he's gonna stop it."

"Oh, he all ready did," the angel shrugged casually. Sighing, he added: "Lilith's long gone and miles away."

A bit surprised, but mostly relieved, the psychic smiled to herself, but soon a sinister thought popped into her head.

"So you're here to punish me then… for getting in the way right? Well do your worst," Laura practically dared the angelic being.

He merely laughed and shook his head: "I'm not here for that, you silly woman."

The brunette gave him an inquisitive look, so he explained innocently: "I just wanted to speak with you."

"About what?"

"Your abilities… they're quite extraordinary," he tilted his head to the side as if examining her.

"If you're looking for answers, get in line," Laura walked around the angel, and headed off of the porch.

The warrior of God followed her as she made her way around to Chuck's side door and began to look around.

"You should learn to have patience," he stated, as the brunette dug through the dried out and dead flower pots beside the door.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one being sleep deprived," she muttered, now standing on her tiptoes and feeling the top of the doorframe.

"Ah, yes… those dreams would keep anyone up," he sighed, as if he knew something she didn't.

Laura paused as she checked under the faded welcome matt: "How do you know what I dream about?"

"We've been watching you for some time, Laura," he responded, still watching her with an uncomfortable amount of intensity.

"Well that's not creepy at all," she raised her eyebrows as she felt under the matt. Her irritated disposition immediately perked up once she had found what she was searching for.

Pulling out a rusted key, she unlocked the side door and allowed herself back inside the prophet's drafty home.

"He should really find a better hiding spot for this," she addressed the angel thoughtfully, tossing him the key.

"Don't change the subject," the angel commanded with a slight tone of ire.

With furrowed eyebrows, the psychic glanced up at him, whilst continuing to gather the things she left in Mr. Shurley's living room.

"We don't know how you can do the things you can, or how powerful you will grow to become, but we _do_ know why Lilith has taken such an interest in you," his blue eyes suddenly became darker.

Grabbing her keys and walking over to the make-shift bar, Laura poured herself a generous glass of whiskey and responded: "You gonna fill me in?"

"You are very important for how this whole thing will turn out," he said cryptically.

Taking a gulp from the burning liquid, Laura replied dryly: "So I've heard."

"Do you know of what's about to happen?"

Laura shook her head with a puzzled look.

"Lilith _will_ raise Lucifer. It's inevitable," the angel seemed a bit too calm for spreading such horrific news.

Laura's blue-green eyes gazed steadily at the somewhat callous angel: "Well don't seem so broken up about it…"

"It's fate," he shrugged.

"Well we're gonna stop it," Laura replied as she was growing more and more disgruntled by the angel's passive attitude.

"Who?" he snorted with complete amusement. "You and the Winchesters? Good luck."

"Do you want the Devil running around up here or something?" she snapped, feeling completely offended. Why wasn't he taking them seriously? Or the situation, for that matter…

"Yes," the angel of the Lord honestly stated, as if it were a completely normal response.

Laura took another gulp from the glass before shaking her head and replying: "Did you get dropped on your head as a baby angel or something?"

"Once Lucifer walks free, we will be able to stop him forever," the balding angel explained.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Laura inquired with a cocked eyebrow.

"It may take some time… but we will win, and my brother will be dead," he responded darkly.

Finishing the glass, Laura set it on the table and headed towards the front door: "Sounds great… but I think you're forgetting how many innocent people will die."

"No. I'm not. We guess it will be in the millions," he almost smiled.

Laura looked at the so-called righteous creature with disgust and hatred.

"Look at it like population control," he was clearly amused.

Shaking her head, Laura opened the front door and glared at the despicable being standing before her: "Well it's a good thing Lilith won't get the cage open then."

The angel sniggered a bit before becoming deathly serious: "You really need to drop the idea that you and the Winchesters can stop her."

"Call me stubborn," she turned her back to the angel and headed out the front door, but now he was suddenly right in front of her, blocking the psychic's path.

"You would do well to stay out of my way," he glared down at the puny female.

"Don't tell me you're scared we might win," she smirked cockily, trying to get a rise out of the powerful being.

His face twitched a bit, but he soon broke out into a fake smile: "Not at all. Try your best, but I should warn you… stopping Lilith is going to take a lot."

"I think I can handle it," she pushed passed him and headed towards the Stang.

As she opened the driver's side door and was about to hop in, the angel said something that made the psychic stop dead in her tracks.

"Can you handle killing Sam?"

Looking back over to where the angel asked her that disturbing question, Laura saw that the porch was vacant, leaving her alone with a mind full of questions and a churning, anxious stomach.

* * *

Chuck was asleep on his couch after the very long, very stressful day he had. The prophet was tossing and turning, as his once pleasant dream turned into a horrific nightmare. After a few minutes, the now sweating writer drunkenly shot up, gasping for air with wide eyes.

"Did you see it?" came a voice from behind him.

An alarmed Mr. Shurley jumped up from the couch, and turned to face who had spoken.

"Who are you?" he asked with a shaking voice.

The same suit-wearing, balding angel with dark blue eyes spoke with a dry smile: "I'm Zachariah. You've written about me."

"Oh…" Chuck muttered. He had had enough of angels and demons and hunters to last him a lifetime.

"Did you see it?" Zachariah repeated his question with a more assertive tone.

Chuck nodded solemnly and practically whispered: "Is it true? Is this really going to happen?"

The angel responded with eerie calmness: "You haven't made a mistake so far…"

Rushing towards the door, Chuck muttered to himself: "I've gotta warn Sam and Dean."

"You're not gonna do that," the angel said dangerously.

The prophet slowly turned to face the now completely serious Zachariah.

"People shouldn't be told of their destiny," the angel said threateningly: "And if you try to tell them, I'll stop you."

Chuck immediately began to walk towards the kitchen, and the angel followed him as the author grabbed a large kitchen knife.

A bit perplexed, Zachariah inquired as to what the man before him was doing.

"I'm gonna kill myself."

"Don't be overdramatic," the angel rolled his eyes. "Besides… you do that and we'll just bring you back."

"So what am I supposed to do? Wait for the world to end?" Chuck asked hopelessly.

"What you've always done, Chuck… write."


	27. Chapter 27

**So we're coming to the climax of this story! GAHHH! So exciting! (at least for me anyways!) I'm still deciding whether or not to make a completely new story for the season 5 plot I have planned, or just keep this story and make it REALLY long. If anyone has a preference let me know. Otherwise, enjoy! :D**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

Laura was speeding down the bright, sunlit empty highway with the top of her '66 cherry red convertible down, blasting "Run Through the Jungle". Although the psychic was covered in dirt and dried blood, she had a wide smile on her face. She has just prevented the demons from breaking another seal in a small Nebraskan town. Sure the sheriff told her to never step foot in Salisbury Farms again, due to her inadvertently burning down five buildings, but hey, at least she saved thirteen people from demonic sacrifice.

The brunette was belting out the lyrics to one of her dad's favorite classic rock songs, wavy brown hair blowing every which way, when her phone rang on her dashboard.

"Hello?"

"Laura? It's me," came the familiar voice of Dean Winchester.

Completely surprised, and even a bit flustered, she lowered the music to hear him better: "Oh, um, hi."

"Is that Creedence Clearwater Revival?" she thought she could hear him grinning through the phone.

Her face grew hot, but the brunette assumed it was from the beating sunlight on her face.

"Ugh… yeah, it is," the psychic tried to sound as casual as possible. "But what's up?"

Dean sighed and the brunette sensed that he was at a loss for words.

"We need your help," he finally said quietly.

"Oh! You need _my_ help," she smiled to herself as she tried to sound shocked.

"Well if I knew you were gonna be a dick about it, I wouldn't have called," Dean snapped angrily.

Laura found it odd that the eldest Winchester didn't even try to come up with a snarky retort, and it worried her. Something was terribly wrong.

"Dean, what is it?" she asked seriously.

He was silent for a moment or two and all she could make out was his wavering breath.

"Dean… what's wrong?" she asked again with more force, snapping him out of it.

The hunter inhaled deeply before responding.

"It's… ugh… it's Sam," his voice cracked slightly.

Laura's stomach immediately hitched as her mind began to race. He wouldn't have called her about his brother if it wasn't extremely serious. As Zachariah's words rang in her head, the brunette only had one question: "Where are you?"

"Bobby's," came the smallest, and almost pathetic voice that sounded nothing like the man speaking to her.

"I'm on my way," she stated before hanging up.

The psychic then slammed on the breaks and turned the wheel hard, whipping the cherry red convertible completely around. As she flew down the road, Laura knew that her next small-time case in Kansas could wait. She was needed elsewhere.

* * *

Laura pulled up to the familiar South Dakota home and hopped out of the car. Practically sprinting up the desk's stairs she was greeted by an exhausted and thoroughly disturbed Bobby Singer.

"What's going on?" she asked frantically as he held the door open for her.

The seasoned hunter did not need to respond, however, for once the brunette stepped into the kitchen she heard Sam's shrieks of pain and terror. The young woman had never imagined such noises coming from the youngest Winchester, and she immediately felt the urge to bolt downstairs and investigate. The only thing that kept her in her place was the sight of a devastated Dean hunched over at the table, guzzling down as much beer as he could get his hands on.

The eldest Winchester barely looked up at the confused psychic, and merely closed his eyes and continued to drink as his kid brother's shouts grew louder and more desperate.

Turning to Bobby, Laura asked with wide eyes: "What's going on? What's happening to Sam?"

"He's goin' through withdrawal," Bobby answered with a tone and expression of extreme discomfort.

Laura cringed as she heard the youngest Winchester banging on the walls in the basement and crying for their help.

"Withdrawal? From what?" she asked, totally horrified.

Bobby opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't bring himself to explain the situation.

"You were right," Dean said with a low voice, looking up at her with a grim, half-hearted smile.

His face immediately dropped as he finished his beer and grabbed another one from the case he had placed at his feet.

The young woman shook her head and muttered, completely lost: "I don't understand."

"He's gone off the deep-end," Dean murmured, staring ahead blankly.

Laura glanced between the broken hunter seated before her and the bearded man beside her.

"So he lost control of his powers?" she ventured slowly, causing Dean to suddenly stand up so violently that his chair tipped over.

"You wanna know how he's been getting so strong?" the eldest Winchester asked with a demented expression. "He's been drinkin' that bitch's blood."

Beside himself, Dean laughed while Laura's blue-green eyes became as large as saucers.

"Ruby's _what_?" the psychic asked incredulously.

"Blood. Like a goddamn junkie," Dean walked back over to the kitchen table and chugged some more beer.

Sam's shouts of agony echoed throughout the house, making their silence even more awkward.

"Can I see him?" she asked quietly.

Bobby glanced over at Dean, who nodded his head quietly before walking outside onto the porch. The bearded hunter then led Laura downstairs and towards the panic room. Sam's shouts had lessened a bit, and as the brunette peeked through the small slotted window, she could make out that the youngest Winchester was muttering to himself. Looking over at Bobby, Laura asked what Sam was doing.

"Boy's been hallucinating," he explained with a saddened expression.

"For how long?" the psychic asked, still gazing at the alarming sight before her.

"A while," Bobby replied grimly.

Laura shook her head as she took in the image of an insane Samuel Winchester. He was sweating and breathing heavily whilst arguing with some unseen being. Though the young woman had never actually witnessed someone going through severe withdrawal, she could only assume this was what it would look like… except this was worse.

"He might die," she breathed.

Bobby nodded his head slowly: "Dean wants to cut him off cold turkey… says if Sam's gonna die, he's gonna die human."

"He doesn't mean that… Dean would never be able to live with himself if his brother died," Laura shook her head.

Sam began to twitch and sputter, yelping out in pain again as the two onlookers helplessly watched.

"The pain alone is gonna drive him mad," Laura's heart broke for the youngest Winchester writhing in pain. Damn Ruby for doing this to him!

Bobby was staring at the brunette intently for a moment or two before she realized where he was looking.

"That's… ugh… that's why we called," he muttered, avoiding her eyes.

"What is?" she inquired with furrowed brows.

"Dean wants you to, um, do what you did for Anna," Bobby winced a bit as they heard Sam choking slightly.

"The mental and physical pain Sam's goin' through isn't natural… it's demonic in nature… even if I could ease some of his suffering, I have no idea what effect it will have on me," the psychic explained, remembering how sick helping Anna had made her.

Bobby understood that what they were asking was too much, and he never even wanted the eldest Winchester to call the young woman, but Dean was desperate.

"I know it's a lot to expect from you, but we gotta at least ask it," a torn Mr. Singer said honestly.

Laura was terrified that she wouldn't be able to control herself and pull away when she absorbed too much of Sam's pain; the psychic was indeed growing stronger, but she still lacked control over her abilities, but beyond that, she was fearful of what taking in such dark, demonic energy would do to her. These fears, however, were soon shoved aside as she saw Sam's veins begin to bulge out of his skin and turn a sickly black color.

"Get Dean!" she commanded hurriedly as the youngest Winchester began to foam at the mouth and seizure.

Bobby's horrified expression was replaced with one of panic as he bolted up the steps shouting Dean's name. Laura, on the other hand, unlocked to door and rushed inside.

Diving onto the floor, she turned the convulsing youngest Winchester onto his size so that he would not choke on his own foaming saliva. Holding his head and neck steady, the psychic closed her eyes and concentrated. An immense wave of darkness immediately consumed her. She felt as if she was on fire, burning from the inside out, and feelings of intense rage, hatred, guilt, and sadness surged throughout her being. Laura's body grew rigid as she began to shake uncontrollably, whilst Sam's seizing slowed down.

In the distance she heard the heavy, clamoring footsteps of Dean and Bobby running down the staircase. Her body was in searing pain as Bobby shouted her name. The psychic wanted to stop so badly, but she needed to push through the blinding agony just a little bit longer. She felt her stomach lurch as she refrained herself from vomiting.

"Laura stop!" Bobby's voiced echoed in her pounding eardrums.

Everything was spinning as she weakly opened her eyes, and the expressions of panic on Dean and Bobby's faces made her look down at the now motionless Sam. Still holding him in her trembling arms, Laura saw the black blood pumping through the youngest Winchester's veins traveling up into her own arms.

"Let go! He's stable now!" Bobby yelled, though his voice sounded as if he was in the distance.

The blackness, which was now flowing freely inside of the young woman, would not permit her to release the unconscious Samuel Winchester. Laura wanted to let go, but she physically couldn't: the darkness had her, and it was killing her.

Then brunette felt Bobby's arms prying her body from Sam's and the moment she lost contact with the youngest Winchester, Laura's eyes rolled back into her head; the last thing that she saw was a petrified Dean, unable to move, and then everything went black.


	28. Chapter 28

**This is a long one, but the last couple were kinda short. Some good bonding moments here, and setting up for the season 4 plot climax! YIPPEEE! All right, read on! And again for those who haven't stated whether or not they have a preference about this being one long story vs. a series of shorter ones, let me know! Also, I only own my OC. Okay! Read/Review/ENJOY! :):):)**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:**

Laura awoke in Bobby's guest bedroom with a cold cloth draped over her throbbing forehead. After a moment or two of lying still and gathering her bearings, the brunette soon remembered why she was even in the surly hunter's junkyard home. Once it had clicked, the psychic sat right up, causing her vision to blur as a wave of intense nausea and dizziness overwhelmed her.

Groaning, she gripped her heavy, pounding head as she swayed in the familiar, musty queen sized bed. Laura wondered how long she had been out of it. Examining her arms, the brunette was relieved to see that her once bulging, black veins had gone back to normal. She had never experienced something like that before. Sure she had undergone extreme agony before… for God's sake she was tortured not four months ago; but this was different. It felt like she had battery acid injected into her veins, and while the psychic was taking in Sam's pain, Laura legitimately thought the demonic blood pumping throughout his body was corroding her insides. Along with the physical torment, Laura also experienced a tremendous darkness take over her soul. She was wrathful and wanted nothing more than to cause pain and harm, and it terrified her.

As she contemplated what Ruby's blood must have been doing to Sam all these months, the brunette's thoughts were soon cut short by an escalating argument between Dean and Bobby going on downstairs. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she inhaled deeply and forced herself up. As she slowly made her way down the hall and staircase, she had to grip the wall and railings to keep her unsteady body from collapsing.

Entering into the kitchen, Laura made out the blurry images of two arguing hunters.

"And you thought it was a good idea to agree to be their bitch?" Bobby asked the eldest Winchester in anger and disbelief.

"It's not like I trust them Bobby," Dean explained, "but what other option did I have? It's either trust the angels or let Sammy keep trusting Ruby."

"You can't work for the angels," Laura protested as she weakly made her way into the kitchen.

Bobby and Dean did not hear her come down the staircase, so they were a bit startled by her sudden appearance.

"You should be in bed," Bobby said, walking over to her.

As the bearded hunter tried to lead her back up the stairs, the brunette waved him off.

Though the room was spinning, she went right up to Dean and continued to reprimand him: "Please tell me you didn't agree to following their orders like some sucker."

Dean made a face: "What would you have me do? Let Sam run off and binge drink on more demon blood?"

"I'm not saying that, but these angels… they aren't who you think they are," she shook her head with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, they aren't manipulative, power-crazed dicks?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"That's not what I meant," Laura didn't know how to put what Zachariah had told her.

"So then what?" Dean inquired impatiently.

"Listen, I'm just saying… don't work for them. They don't have our best intentions in mind," she stated growing more and more sick to her stomach.

"What aren't you tellin' us?" Bobby asked from behind the queasy brunette.

"I met an angel named Zachariah at Chuck's and he told me something… he told me something bad," she ran her hand through her hair.

"Just say it," Dean sighed irritably.

"He told me they want Lucifer out… they want to apocalypse, and if we wanna stop it… well we… I… I gotta kill Sam," she couldn't look at either of them.

"What?" Dean asked dangerously.

"I'm obviously not gonna kill him, but the angels… their banking on Lilith opening the cage," Laura said hurriedly as she felt her stomach churning more and more.

Dean was silent, and although she couldn't make out his expression too clearly, she sensed he was seething mad.

"And you kept this from us?" he said through clenched teeth, trying to remain calm.

"I didn't think it was important," she muttered, trying to hold back vomit.

"Not important?" he asked incredulously. "Yeah the angels telling you they _want_ the Devil out or the fact that they told you to _kill_ my brother? Definitely not important!"

Closing her eyes in an effort to ease her stomach and headache, Laura responded defensively: "I was never gonna hurt Sam, and I didn't think you'd volunteer to be their jockstrap… so sorry I kept it to myself. Didn't think it was worth the drama."

"When it involves _my_ family it is _my _business. You don't just sweep that under the rug," the eldest Winchester snapped with a tone of almost disgust.

Laura felt the chunks rising in her throat as she tried to swallow them down to give her retort: "Dean… I'm sorry… I'm just saying…"

"I don't wanna hear it. I got a brother going through withdrawal right now and seals breakin' left and right… so drop it," the oldest Winchester stated fiercely.

Gagging a bit, the brunette tried to get another word out, but Dean interrupted her: "I said drop it!"

Overly worked up and completely sick, Laura couldn't hold it back anymore. With a sickening gurgling noise, she felt her stomach hitch as she ran to the bathroom, crashing into the walls and furniture the entire way. Yanking the seat up, she emptied her stomach's contents into the toilet bowl, as Bobby and Dean rushed after her.

"Laura," Bobby said, uncomfortably rubbing her back as she continued to profusely vomit.

She shook her head as she held her wavy, dark brown hair out of her sweating face. "I'm fine," she continued to dry heave.

"Dean, get her water," Bobby commanded the eldest Winchester who quietly watched the ill psychic.

Although he was angry that Laura kept what Zachariah had told her a secret, Dean felt himself feeling guilty for constantly reaming her out… especially since the brunette had gone out of her way and made herself extremely sick, even almost killing herself, to help his stupid kid brother. Nodding his head, Dean followed Bobby's orders.

"Bobby," she said after another bout of throwing up. "How many seals are left? I stopped one from breaking, but what Dean said…"

"Don't worry about it right now. Just relax," the trucker cap wearing hunter said in a low voice.

"Tell me the truth, Gramps," she looked up at him with watery yet determined eyes.

He responded grimly: "It's not lookin' good."

"Great. So Armageddon is just around the corner," she mumbled, gagging a bit more.

"Here," she heard Dean handing Bobby the glass.

As she weakly drank the cool contents, she looked up appreciatively at each hunter. As she did so, they all suddenly heard intense banging going on in the panic room downstairs.

Everyone exchanged alarmed glances, and Dean immediately sprinted downstairs with Bobby close at his heels.

Preparing herself to get up and help again, Laura hobbled her way into Bobby's basement as well, and what she witnessed was beyond disturbing. Samuel Winchester was now being thrown around the room by an invisible force. His limp body was being tossed against the walls and sealing like a rag doll; Dean and Bobby frantically ran in once his body had dropped hard onto the cold floor.

"We gotta tie him down!" Bobby said, snapping Dean out of his horrified trance.

Nodding curtly, they both strapped Sam down onto the bed in the middle of the panic room. At this point, Laura walked over to help, but the eldest Winchester told her to stand back as his brother began to flail around again.

"Let me help him," she said fiercely.

"No, you'll kill yourself," Dean stated firmly.

"But Dean!" she argued.

"No! I'm not gonna watch you _and_ Sammy suffer!"

Bobby shot Laura a look to back off, so after a moment or two of helplessly watching, Laura begrudgingly went upstairs. Still a bit nauseas, she grabbed water from the fridge. Chugging the glass, she sighed and turned around, only to find Pamela seated at the kitchen table.

* * *

"Hey, dumbass," Pamela smirked.

"Where the Hell have you been?" Laura asked, somewhat annoyed. "I've tried contacting you for weeks! I thought you crossed over!"

Pamela grinned and responded teasingly: "Missed me, have you?"

Rolling her eyes, Laura pulled out a chair and sat across the table from her late best friend.

"You look awful," Mr. Barnes scanned her friend's weakened and still filthy body.

"It's been a long couple of days," Laura shrugged, burping a bit.

"Good job with that seal, by the way," the black haired psychic complimented her friend.

Laura smiled faintly, and responded morosely: "Not good enough. Lilith's apparently broken way more than I've saved…"

Pamela drummed her fingers on the table: "It was nice what you did for Sam. I know it took a lot out of you."

Leaning back in her chair, Laura sighed: "Yeah, but I can't actually heal him."

"Nothing can. He's too far gone," the deceased psychic stated matter-of-factly.

Laura was taken off guard by her friend's reply, so she looked up at her with an inquisitive look.

Pamela's dark, chocolate brown eyes appeared stormy and distracted as she continued to drum her slender fingers on the wooden table.

"What aren't you tellin' me?" Laura knew her friend all too well.

Pamela didn't say anything, but rather began to play with the cloth dining matt in front of her.

"Pamela…" Laura pressed with probing eyes.

Ms. Barnes looked up into her best friend's intense blue-green stare. Inhaling deeply, the dead psychic spilled the troubling information she had found out.

"I was gone for a while cause I wanted to find out more on Lilith and her plan," Pamela began.

Laura nodded, silently urging her best friend to continue.

"So I did find out something…"

"Can you just say it? You're freaking me out," Laura said with exasperation.

"Zachariah's right…"

"About what?" Laura asked, but with the torn expression plastered on her ghostly friend's face, she knew. "About Sam?" she gasped.

Pamela nodded slowly and solemnly: "If you wanna stop the Devil from getting top-side, you gotta kill Sam."

"You can't be serious!" Laura stood up immediately, causing herself to grow a bit light-headed, but the psychic did not care. "I can't kill him! I won't kill him!"

Pamela sadly watched as her best friend paced around the kitchen, mumbling a bit to herself.

"If he kills Lilith, Lucifer walks free," Pamela said sorrowfully, yet firmly.

Looking up, Laura ran her hands through her hair and shook her head violently: "No… that can't be right. I know we gotta stop him for his own good, but killing Lilith is a good thing…"

"No, Laur. It's not," Pamela looked at her friend hard in the face.

"I don't understand what you're telling me. We need Lilith dead! She's the one breaking the seals… she's the one springing the Devil from Hell!" Laura flailed her arms a bit as she continued to walk nervously in circles.

"Lilith _is_ the final seal," the black haired psychic stated, causing Laura to come to a dead stop.

With wide eyes, she asked: "What?"

"If Sam kills that white-eyed bitch, Dante's Inferno comes to Earth," the troubled psychic watched her friend closely. She wasn't sure how Laura would take the news.

"But what if someone else kills her? What if I kill her?" Laura inquired.

"Laura?" she heard Bobby behind her.

Spinning around, Laura saw both Dean and Mr. Singer staring at her with completely confused expressions.

"Ugh, hi guys," she smiled awkwardly, glancing back at the now vacant kitchen table.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked with judgmental tone.

"Um, nothing," she lied, her face becoming a bit flushed. "How's Sam?" she quickly changed the subject.

Still eyeing her closely, Bobby divulged that the youngest Winchester was strapped down good and tight until they could figure out what to do next. Dean, on the other hand, simply grabbed a few beers and headed into the living room silently. He didn't want to talk about it… or even hear about it. He was scared and wanted Ruby's head on a silver platter for corrupting his brother like this… for turning him into this monster.

Laura and Bobby stared sadly after the broken eldest Winchester.

"How's he holding up?" the psychic asked.

Bobby shook his head: "He's takin' it pretty hard. Blames himself for not being there for Sam when he needed him…"

"You mean when he was in Hell after a deal he made to save Sam's life?" the brunette asked with a bit of an irritated tone. How could he place so little value on himself?

"He's always put a lot of pressure on himself," the bearded hunter explained.

"Well that's just bullshit. Dean should be blaming Ruby for this, not himself!" Laura said passionately.

Bobby couldn't help but smirk a bit. For as much of a jerk Dean was to the young woman, she was able to see right through him. Maybe she would be able to help him heal and learn to forgive himself.

"Well I gotta go get a few things from the shed outside," Bobby said, heading towards the door and picking up a shotgun. Noticing Laura's puzzled expression, the elderly hunter explained: "Rock salt in case Ruby or some other Hell's angel decides to show up."

Laura nodded her head in agreement as Mr. Singer left his now silent house. Sighing, she grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and opened it. After taking a few sips, she decided that although she would probably get her head bitten off, she should try to talk to Dean. He needed to know someone was there for him while his world collapsed around him. Laura knew all too well what it felt like to be alone, and no one, not even the infuriating Dean Winchester deserved that.

"Knock, knock," Laura leaned against the door post, breaking the eldest Winchester's train of thought.

Not even bothering to appear friendly, he raised his beer half-heartedly and gulped the rest of the bottle's contents down. Laura seemed a bit timid to come into the living room, so Dean decided to throw her a bone: "How you feelin'?"

"Pretty good," she seemed to appreciate his attempt at a conversation.

Sitting down at the far end of the couch, she quietly sipped on her beer, clearly not wanting to push him.

Dean appreciated that she wasn't like Sam in that way. Laura wasn't the type to force him to talk, and she didn't seem to mind silence. His kid brother, however, could never let anything lie. Grabbing another beer of the coffee table, Dean offered another one to his quiet female companion.

Although her beer was half full, she took it willingly and set it on the floor beside her. The eldest Winchester looked at her intently for a moment or two. The brunette was covered in dirt and dried blood, which he could only hope wasn't hers. She appeared beat tired and more frail then usual, not doubt from exerting herself so much downstairs; beyond that, though, Laura looked just as hopeless as he felt. Then Dean remembered Bobby saying something about her keeping some seal safe, so he decided to break the silence and ask.

"So I heard about your case in Nebraska."

Laura broke her steady gaze on the blank television screen: "Yeah. Demons were planning on sacrificing thirteen people on consecrated ground."

"That was a seal wasn't it?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Laura nodded her head.

"I'm sorry for being such a dick," he blurted out, feeling a bit better after the apology left his lips.

The brunette's dirty, yet still delicate face broke out in a smile. Dean felt as if it had been a while since he had seen her genuinely happy, and he couldn't help himself but grin back a little.

"It's fine. I get it, you know? If anything happened to my family I don't know what I'd do…" she said softly.

"But still… after everything I've said to you… you came here, no questions asked, to help Sam," Dean felt ashamed and averted his eyes.

"Sure we don't see eye to eye a lot of the time," Laura began, but with look from Dean, she fixed the previous statement with a smirk: "or most of the time… whatever. All I know is that you two aren't the bad guys. We know the demons are bad news and now we can't even trust the angels… we're all we got."

Dean gazed at Laura as she said those profound words and he couldn't help but admire her. She gave up everything, lost her best friend, and had to deal with the same crap they did, except all on her own… but then again, she wasn't on her own, was she? She was there for him, and his brother, and he'd be damned if he didn't return the favor.

"How old are you again?" he asked with an amused smirk.

Laura giggled as he explained: "You just seem so…"

"Mature? Yeah, I know. I never did act my age," she said thoughtfully.

Dean nodded as they both sipped on their beers. Finishing her own, the psychic picked up the other one and opened it. Standing up, she made her way towards the staircase, but before she left the eldest Winchester alone, she responded: "Try not to put the world on your shoulders, Dean. Okay?"

Forcing a weak grin, he nodded, as the remarkable young woman went upstairs.

* * *

As the hot water cascaded down her aching body, Laura thought to herself that this was the closest thing to a holy experience she would ever have. Humming absentmindedly, she turned off the water and wrapped a towel around herself. Throwing on a fresh pair of black skinny jeans and a gray tank top, Laura put on her black combat boots and brushed her wet hair. Practically dripping, she headed back downstairs with the intention of cooking everyone dinner. Homemade food was always a thing of comfort in times of trouble, or so Mrs. Norwood used to say, so Laura thought it was a good idea to try it out during such dark times.

What she saw in the kitchen, however, was not the scene she was expecting. Dean was fussing over a bleeding Bobby Singer, who seemed way more sour than usual.

"Oh my God!" Laura hurried inside and asked in alarm: "What happened?"

"Sam," Bobby grumbled, as Dean examined the surly hunters split lip and bleeding nose.

"He got out?" she asked in amazement. "How?" her eyes darted between both hunters.

"We don't know," Dean hissed angrily.

"Well where did he go?" the brunette continued.

"I said we don't know," Dean growled.

Laura shook off the eldest Winchester's attitude: "So go find him!"

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked at the psychic.

"He clearly rather be with Ruby," the older brother said with a look of abhorrence.

Laura was growing tired of this pity-party: "Well suck it up! He's your brother, and he's not thinkin' straight. You need to go find him! You need to stop him!"

Dean seemed a bit taken off guard by her ferocity: "He made his choice."

Laura stormed right up to him, causing the eldest Winchester to take a step back by instinct: "All right, just stop it!" she scolded him. "He hurt your feelings… he broke your trust. Boo-friggin'-hoo."

Both Bobby and Dean at this point looked at the brunette with wide, alert eyes, as if their own mothers were yelling.

"Wake up! He's all doped out on demon blood. He's not himself, so go put on your big-boy pants and get your idiot brother before he hurts himself… or worse!" her blue-green eyes were blazing.

Dean glanced down at Bobby and then back down at her tentatively.

"I'll fix Gramps up… just go," Laura said more softly.

With a new sense of determination, Dean quickly grabbed his infamous leather jacket and car keys, and then headed for the door

"Oh and Dean," Laura called after him as he was halfway out of the house. "Kill that black-eyed bitch, would yah?"

With a curt nod, Dean Winchester closed the front door behind him, and soon the familiar rumble of the '67 Chevy Impala could be heard speeding down the driveway and heading down the open road.


	29. Chapter 29

**So close to the end of Season 4! Not gonna waste anymore of your time with my rambling, so go ahead and read on! **

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

It had been a couple of days since Dean left to find Sam in some town called Cold Springs. Although the brunette knew Dean was the only one who could talk some sense into Sam and stop him, both she and Bobby were fearful that the eldest Winchester's anger would get the better of him. Bobby had even tried to warn Dean to take it easy of his younger brother and to focus on bringing him home, rather than reaming him out, but the eldest Winchester simply brushed off the advice.

That was the last they had heard from Dean. No news, updates, nothing regarding Sam, Ruby, Lilith, or the final seal. To pass the time and ease their mounting anxiety, Bobby decided to listen in on every police scanner he could and check Dean's cellphone GPS to at least make sure the irate hunter was okay. Laura, on the other hand, decided to spend her time trying to figure out how the Hell Ruby managed to break Sam loose from the supposedly demon-proof panic room. Every devil's trap was intact, and unless the black-eyed witch figured out how to de-salt the iron walls, the psychic could not figure out any feasible way that the youngest Winchester's jail break was accomplished.

Laura was racking her brains out, pouring over every spell she could get her hands on, simply hoping to find a solution. It was driving her mad. Finally after hours and hours of frustrating, fruitless searching, she decided to meditate… and that's when she felt it: an odd sensation that radiated from the center of the panic room (by the bed), moved towards the heavy iron door, and reached out into the middle of Bobby's basement.

The psychic closed her eyes, feeling her way as she went, and eventually came to a stop at the source of this strange energy field. Turning to face the panic room from her position underneath the stairs, Laura opened her eyes and saw it: a faint trace of pale blue light. It was not malevolent in nature, and she could feel the purity and sheer power coming from the psychic echoes emitted from whatever had freed Sam. It was familiar to her… very familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"You've felt an imprint left by an angel's grace before," came Castiel's steady voice right beside her.

Although she was not expecting him, Laura wasn't surprised by the angel's sudden appearance, and as he spoke those words, she immediately connected the sensation going through her body with when they tried to track Anna's grace in the field months back.

Turning to look up at the emotionless warrior of Heaven, the brunette stated: "It was you, wasn't it?"

Castiel nodded, staring hard at the panic room.

Again, the psychic wasn't surprised. Shaking her head in absolute revulsion, she spat: "I'm sure you were just 'following orders' again, though."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," his piercing blue eyes now rested on the young woman.

"No, I don't. I don't at all," she retorted darkly. "You guys wanting to start the apocalypse is messed up enough as it is… and I get you're all spineless cowards constantly listening to the crap orders you get, but you know what? I saw some hope for you… some humanity… or compassion at least."

"I do not take what we must do lightly," Castiel tried to say, but the psychic merely cut him off fiercely.

"How could you do this to him?"

The angel seemed a bit confused, so she continued: "I thought you were different than the others… the way you respected Dean, but I guess that means squat to you? Letting Sam go… letting him get away… it's gonna ruin him, and it's gonna ruin Dean. He trusted you, and you betrayed him," she looked at the trench coat wearing angel as if he were the scum of the earth. "You're pathetic."

"Laura…" Castiel was clearly feeling guilty. He was always conflicted about his superiors' plans, but they made it perfectly clear they would not permit his fondness for these humans to get in the way of fate. His hands were tied.

"Can you just leave? Cause I can't even look at you," she shook her head.

The angel bowed his head, feeling ashamed and frustrated that the young woman could not see his side of things. With one last pleading look at the unmoving brunette, Castiel then disappeared, leaving her alone once again.

* * *

"He hasn't been pickin' up my phone calls," Bobby worriedly complained as Laura stared lazily at the police scanner.

"I'm sure he's fine, Gramps. Probably doesn't wanna listen to you lecture him anymore," Laura tried to ease the bearded hunter's troublesome thoughts, though she, herself, was not quite comfortable with how long it had been since they heard from the eldest Winchester.

"You haven't heard anything on the scanner?" Bobby asked the brunette for the millionth time.

Sighing in exasperation and rolling her eyes, she responded: "Not since the last time you asked me, which was oh… maybe five minutes ago."

"Don't get smart," Bobby grumbled, trying to busy himself by cleaning a couple of guns.

Laura smirked, and when the seasoned hunter noticed this, he asked grumpily: "Somethin' amusing?"

The psychic began to giggle as she rested her chin on her hand and responded teasingly: "It's just, if I didn't know any better… I'd say you care about those 'idjit' Winchesters."

Bobby bit his cheek so as not to smile, and maintaining his surly disposition, he muttered something to himself and continued to clean his weapons.

Then, without warning, a fuming Dean Winchester stormed into the kitchen, completely bruised, swollen, and bloody.

Both Laura and Bobby immediately stood up and demanded Dean tell them what had happened.

"What do you think?" he spat furiously, slamming the front door shut, rattling everything on the walls.

"Sam did that to you?" Bobby asked with wide eyes, never having seen the eldest Winchester this messed up at the hands of his own kin.

"Guess I shoulda listened to your advice…" Dean seethed, touching his split forehead with a wince.

At this point, Laura was busying herself with grabbing Mr. Singer's first aid kit and had taken some rubbing alcohol from the cupboard.

"Sit," she commanded in a low voice, but the thoroughly pissed off hunter continued to pace and rant.

"Damn kid's my brother… practically raised him myself and this is the thanks I get? Well I give up! Screw him! I'm not gonna try to pull him back from the edge… let him fall off!" he strode over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, but after a moment of contemplation, he shoved it back inside and asked Bobby gruffly: "Got any whiskey?"

Bobby and Laura exchanged concerned glances. Both of them hadn't seen Dean so livid, and they both thought that his drinking habit would only make matters worse.

"Dean maybe you shouldn't…" Mr. Singer tried to say, but Dean just pushed past him into the living room.

"Fine… I'll get it myself," he muttered angrily, and soon reappeared with the bottle in his hand.

"I get you're mad, I really do and I'm not sayin' what Sam did is okay, but when you calm down…" Bobby tried reason again, but as Dean guzzled down a few gulps of the alcohol, he glared at his father-figure.

"Don't even say it," he said bitterly. "I'm not calling him."

"But he's your blood!" Bobby argued in frustration.

Dean laughed incredulously: "My blood? Right! Cause this is what family does!"

"Dean…" Laura said softly, earning herself a dangerous look from the eldest Winchester. Although his intense anger admittedly frightened her a bit, the brunette knew that he would eventually calm down and come to his senses… he just didn't need to be badgered at the moment: "Just sit down."

The eldest Winchester was still seething and merely stood there like a stubborn little kid.

"Please," she practically whispered, gazing up at him with both care and compassion.

Though Dean gruffly gave in, his body language remained stiff and uninviting as he continued to drink heavily from the bottle.

Laura examined his face, which although it wasn't a pretty sight, she knew it did not require much medical attention. Observing that his arm and shoulder were in much worse condition, she meekly asked the eldest Winchester to remove his jacket and flannel, but he just stared darkly into the bottle.

"Dammit, boy, will you just listen to her," a disgruntled Mr. Singer snapped.

Glowering at the bearded hunter, Dean obeyed and the brunette began to delicately clean, bandage, and stitch up the deepest gashes on his muscular arms and broad shoulders.

Continuing to drink, the eldest Winchester was growing more and more agitated by the disapproving glances that Bobby was giving him. As Laura was sewing up on the last deep cut, Dean snapped.

"If you got somethin' to say, say it!"

With his face now a shade of deep purple, Bobby erupted in a way that neither Dean nor Laura had ever witnessed: "You're a stupid son of a bitch! I'm sorry you got your feelin's hurt, princess, but you don't turn your back on family!"

Dean's eyes flashed violently: "Turning _my_ back? I'm not the one who ran away to Sanford the first chance I got! Sorry I'm sick and tired of chasing someone who never _wanted _to be part of this family! Well now he got what he always wanted…"

Bobby advanced on Dean angrily, as the eldest Winchester stood up, forgetting that Laura was trying to put the last bandage on his shoulder.

"What made you think family comes easy? Most of the time they drive you crazy and make you miserable, but that's what they're supposed to do!" veins began to bulge from his neck.

"I warned him if he walked out that door never to come back… and guess what? He walked out! That was his choice!" Dean screamed with an equal amount of ferocity.

"You sound like a brat! No, scratch that… you sound like your father… and lemme tell you… he was a damned coward!" spit was flying from Bobby's bearded mouth.

Dean's eyes widened as his loyalty took over: "You could say my dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but _not_ a coward!"

"He pushed Sam away cause it was easier than reaching out to him… doesn't sound too brave to me. You were always a better man than your daddy ever was… so stop actin' like him!" Bobby softened up a bit and backed off once he realized that his words had reached Dean.

Both hunters immediately backed away, leaving a stunned Laura feeling extremely relieved that she would not have to break up a fist fight.

Taking the bottle from the table, Bobby walked over to the cabinet and grabbed three glasses. Pouring whiskey into them, he handed each of them out and said huskily: "Now let's stop actin' like heathens and deal with this like adults."

Laura stood up and practically slapped the last of Dean's bandages onto his sore shoulder, and then handed him his flannel back. Finally looking down at her, the eldest Winchester felt embarrassed that she had witnessed his temper tantrum, but he was relieved to see that she had an amused expression plastered all over her face.

"Glad you two finished your little cat-fight… thought I'd have to hose you both down," she grinned, hoping her comment would lighten the mood.

Both men bashfully looked down, but before anything else could be said, there was a whirl of wind, and in a split second, Dean Winchester was gone.

* * *

"You can't go alone!" Bobby argued as Laura frantically packed her belongings.

"You need to stay behind if Dean comes back," she countered as she stuffed her clothes into the duffel bag.

"But you said the angels have 'em… how the Hell do you think he'll be able to bust out?" the bearded hunter pointed out.

Laura stopped what she was doing for a brief moment to look at him: "If anyone's persistent and a big enough pain in the ass to one up an angel… its him."

Bobby couldn't deny the fact that the eldest Winchester was in fact a handful and difficult for anyone to control, but this situation was definitely far from the norm.

"So what? You're gonna run off and stop Lilith yourself?" the hunter asked with a disapproving look and tone.

"I'm not stopping Lilith…" Laura sighed, throwing the bag over her shoulder, and taking the keys off of the nightstand. "I'm stopping Sam."

Bobby's eyes widened in disbelief and confusion: "Sam? I know he's goin' a little nuts, but…"

Running a hand through her hair, Laura looked Mr. Singer hard in the face: "I spoke to Pamela."

Bobby did not seem remotely surprised: "So that's who you were talkin' to the other day…"

Nodding her head, the brunette tentatively continued: "She told me we _have_ to stop Sam… at all costs."

"Don't tell me your letting that Zachariah nut get in yer head."

"I'm obviously not gonna kill him, Bobby… but I gotta stop him," she headed down the staircase, with Mr. Singer close behind her.

"I mean with how strong he's gotten, he might just be able to…" Bobby began to say, but the psychic cut him off immediately.

"It's not a question of his strength," she tried to explain.

"Then what is it?" the surly hunter adjusted his cap as they stepped outside into the breezy night air.

"Lilith isn't gonna break the last seal. She _is_ the last seal," Laura opened the door to her '66 Mustang.

Bobby's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he gasped: "What? Are you sure?"

"Pam hasn't steered me wrong yet… that's why the angels let Sam loose… cause they want Lucifer topside… and then they took Dean to keep him out of the way," Laura mused out loud.

Bobby was stunned and shook his head in disbelief. Then after a pause, he raised a very troubling question: "So if you know all this… why'd you got off Scott-free?"

Laura had been contemplating that herself. The angels had made it perfectly clear that she was to play a huge rule in this apocalyptic battle, and even the demons stated that Lilith had plans for her. Although she was petrified what might happen to her if she interrupted the show-down between the youngest Winchester and his arch nemesis, the psychic understood that this was the only option.

This battle was not just Sam and Dean's, or even hers for that matter… it was for the fate of humanity, and the brunette knew she had to set aside her own fears to try to prevent the Devil from rising.

"I wish I knew," she breathed honestly.

"Did it ever cross your mind that this could be a trap for you?" Bobby asked, still fighting to keep her safely hidden in his South Dakota home.

Laura smiled sadly as she responded: "Isn't that always the case?"

Bobby gazed down at the head-strong young woman, fearing this would be the last time he ever saw her. As if sensing his immense sorrow, Laura suddenly embraced the old hunter tightly.

"I'll be okay, Gramps. I swear," she whispered, trying to believe her own words.

She felt Mr. Singer nod slowly, and without a further look or word, Laura hopped into her convertible and headed to what could possibly be the end of her life.


	30. Chapter 30

**Wow! Season 4 ends with this chapter, concluding Part 1 of this story! I hope you guys enjoy this one! Can't wait to start Season 5! :) All right, well go on then! IF YOU DARE! **

**Chapter Thirty:**

Rapping hard on the chipped wooden door, Laura desperately shouted to the only person that she could think of to help her find Sam.

"Open up, I know you're home!" she pounded on the door fiercely, and mid knock, she was met with a completely startled and agitated Chuck Shurley.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" he asked as he stepped out onto the porch, awkwardly closing the door behind him.

"You're the prophet… you tell me," she noticed his hair was more disheveled than usual and he smelt like cheap perfume.

"I… I didn't see this happening… I must be getting rusty," he muttered to himself, scratching his head.

Laura eyed him closely, and as she was about to respond to the author, the front door opened, revealing a scantily dressed woman with heavy make-up smeared on her face.

"Carver, is this gonna take long? Cause I'll have to charge you extra," she said with a husky voice as she lit up a cigarette.

Laura raised her eyebrows in amusement and looked at the now thoroughly uncomfortable Chuck.

"Ugh… don't worry about the money, just go back inside…" he shooed her away.

The woman puffed her smoke into his face with an attitude and skulked back inside the prophet's home.

Clearing his throat, Chuck smiled awkwardly and closed the front door again.

"Really? The world's ending and you hire a hooker?" the brunette folded her arms.

Shrugging, he spoke honestly: "Is there any better time?"

Laura giggled a bit, and then went back to the topic at hand: "Where's Sam?"

"I really think you should reconsider going…" Chuck protested.

"Tell me, Chuck," she said sternly.

"Dean's all ready taking care of it, so you should really go away… go far away!" he said urgently, his face panic stricken.

"Dean got away?" Laura asked softly.

"Yes, so you don't need to go after Sam…"

"But you know what will happen if Dean can't stop his brother," Laura's blue-green eyes stared intently at the prophet.

"Maybe he'll pull it off," even Chuck couldn't hide the doubt in his voice.

Pushing him hard against the door, Laura was inches from his face and demanded forcefully: "Tell me where they are!"

"Under other circumstances this would be very hot," Mr. Shurley said absentmindedly, but as Laura slammed him harder against the house, he gulped and sputtered out: "Okay, okay!"

Laura released him, and the prophet straightened himself up. As he opened his mouth up to respond, however, a searing pain shot through the psychic's skull.

Gasping, she gripped her head and stumbled back.

"Looks like we're gonna have company," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Chuck's eyes widened in fear: "The archangel's are gonna stop you from interfering."

"Then I will occupy them," a familiar voice said firmly.

Chuck and Laura immediately turned to see Castiel in a state they had never witnessed him in before: one of defiance.

"But they'll kill you," Chuck gasped.

Gazing at the righteous brunette, the angel understood and accepted his fate. He was finished obeying the corrupt orders of his superiors. "As a friend once told me… if there is anything worth dying for… this is it," Castiel quoted Dean Winchester's wise words.

Laura felt every resentment she had for the trench-coat wearing creature disappear, for he had finally saw the truth. Castiel was beginning to stand up for what was right, and he was on the same page as she was: willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good.

Tentatively reaching out and taking his stiff hand into her own, Laura looked up into his dazzling blue eyes and said softly: "Thank you, Castiel."

He nodded curtly and then demanded that she get going at once: "Sam will be at St. Mary's convent."

With a deep breath, the brunette pecked the angel on the cheek. Not expecting this gesture of gratitude and affection, Castiel did not know how to react and merely flushed a light shade of pink.

Turning and giving the prophet a small smile, Laura then bid them farewell. She knew, deep down, that Castiel would be killed, and she herself may very well meet a similar fate, but the creature of Heaven was correct. If anything was worth dying for, it was saving humanity.

Rushing down the steps, Chuck ran after her and tried one last time to change the crazy young woman's mind.

"Laura… you can't stop Sam."

"I gotta try," she shook her head.

"Lucifer _will_ rise, and when he does… if you're in that convent…" the writer trailed off ominously.

Looking him hard in the face, Laura spoke the thoughts she assumed the man before her was having: "I'll die."

Shaking his head slowly, his voice trembled a bit: "He'll take you."

Completely disturbed and horrified, Laura opened her car door and looked at the prophet. She knew he was serious, but she also knew that quitting was not an option.

"You said I wasn't supposed to come here… so I changed the story… maybe I'll change it again," the brunette hopelessly tried to ease both of their minds.

"I hope so, but…" he continued to try to stop her.

"Good-bye, Chuck," she smiled sadly.

And with that, the psychic slid into her cherry red convertible and sped down the street, praying to God that she could reach the Winchesters in time.

* * *

It was pouring outside as Dean leapt out of the Impala. He sprinted towards the trunk and yanked out as many weapons as he could hold. His mind raced about what was about to happen, but mostly he felt a blind, intense rage filling him up. He was going to kill Ruby. He was going to take her own knife and plunge it into that manipulative bitch's heart. After all he and Sam had been through, after all they had endured together, that demon had almost ruined them… had almost destroyed that precious bond that made both Winchester brothers able to withstand anything.

Forget the apocalypse, forget Lilith, forget it all! Dean was gonna gank that evil black-eyed skank once and for all. Even if the world was ending, he was going to take Ruby down with him.

Slamming the trunk shut, he heard a distant voice shouting his name. Squinting through the pelting rain, Dean eventually made out the vision of an equally drenched Laura running towards him from across the lot.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in awe.

The brunette was panting as she responded with a small smirk: "Think I'd let you do this alone?"

Dean shook his head in vigorous protest: "No way. This is too dangerous!"

Laura's blue-green eyes were blazing as she stepped up closer to him in defiance: "We both know you can't keep me from coming with you, so let's skip the argument."

Dean opened his mouth to try to persuade the psychic to leave, but she spoke over him ardently: "I'm backing you up whether you like it or not, so quit wasting time! We got your brother to save and couple of demons that need to be wasted!"

The eldest Winchester wasn't happy about the prospect of Laura putting herself in harm's way for them, but he couldn't help himself from feeling a renewed surge of power due to her intense support. Knowing everything he and his brother had done, understanding that they were the cause of this whole mess… the very mess that ruined her life… none of it mattered to her. She was going to see this through to the very end, and Dean had finally realized the Laura was truly there for them, no matter what was going to happen.

Even in the face of almost certain death, Dean grinned: "You're a real pain in the ass."

Laura smiled brilliantly, brushing her soaked hair away from her face: "I'll take that as a compliment."

As they gazed at one another, with the wind howling and the rain drenching them both, Dean felt as if time had frozen. Yes, they may die, and yes, the world may end, but in this brief moment, he felt that for the first time in a while, he was not alone.

As fast as the moment had occurred, their break from reality ended, as their thoughts soon traveled back to the situation at hand. Both Laura and Dean ran into the convent, shouting Sam's name, praying that they weren't too late, but as they rounded the corner, they both saw that Sam was all ready in the midst of his assault on Lilith.

"Sam!" Dean screamed as they sprinted towards the sanctuary door.

The youngest Winchester paused for a second or two, hearing his brother's shouts, but Ruby coaxed him back into focusing.

Lilith, in the body of an attractive blonde wearing a white dress, was being held against a marble crypt. Struggling against Sam, she mocked him as the young hunter gripped his head, trying to kill her.

"No, Sam!" Laura shouted, as she and Dean were just a couple of yards away.

Ruby, at this point, had turned and looked at Laura and Dean with a malicious smirk, and waved her hand, slamming the heavy doors shut just as they had reached the threshold.

"No!" Dean yelled, banging on the doors violently. "Sammy!"

Pounding as hard as he could, the eldest Winchester tried desperately to knock down the doors, but they weren't budging.

Laura's heart was pounding. They were so close! They couldn't fail now! They couldn't let Sam kill Lilith! Lucifer could not be allowed to escape his prison! They needed to get in there… everyone she ever loved was counting on it! As her adrenaline began to kick in, she commanded that Dean move away from the door, but he was too busy screaming for his brother.

In one swift motion of her arm, the brunette pushed him aside. Closing her eyes, the psychic inhaled, and as her eyes opened and dilated, the heavy doors blew off of their hinges with a thunderous crash.

Ruby's eyes grew wide as she saw the furious brunette and eldest Winchester rush into the room. As Dean tried to reach his brother, yelling his name the entire time, Laura lunged at the black-eyed demon, but both hunters were soon thrown against the hard stone wall of the sanctuary.

Struggling against Ruby's demonic grip, Dean and Laura helplessly watched as the youngest Winchester closed his fist, causing a now sputtering Lilith to begin to convulse. As a fiery light began to glow from deep within the blonde woman's chest, Laura shrieked out: "Stop, Sam! Stop!"

But it was too late… Sam's eyes had gone completely black, and in one final push, Lilith's body emitted a brilliant orange light and then slumped lifelessly onto the cold floor.

* * *

"You did it!" Ruby cried joyfully, staring at Lilith's bleeding corpse. "You were a little touch and go for a while, but you did it!"

Sam, whose eyes had now gone back to normal, watched in horror as the blood began to stream away from Lilith's body, forming a large circle in the middle of the floor.

"What's going on, Ruby?" he asked, as he wiped blood from his nose.

"You did it!" she continued to mumble crazily. "You opened the door! He's free at last!"

Stumbling back, Sam shook his head in utter disbelief and began to feel sick to his stomach. What had he done?

"No… no… I-I stopped Lilith… I killed her," he felt his breathing growing more and more irregular.

Ruby fervently recited a prophecy: "And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal… you busted her open, and now he's free!"

Holding his head as everything sank in, Samuel Winchester continued to watch the blood form an intricate design on the floor: "Oh my God…"

"Guess again," Ruby smiled broadly. "You have no idea how hard this was! Every demon was out for my head. No one knew… no one except Lilith. I was the best of those sons of bitches! Sure you're angry now, Sam… but you have to admit it! I was awesome!" she boasted, jubilantly watching as the cage door was almost completely formed.

"You bitch! You lying bitch!" Sam shouted, growing murderous.

He pushed his hand forward, but nothing happened.

Laughing, Ruby explained: "Don't hurt yourself, Sammy. You wasted it all on the boss."

"You poisoned me," Sam cried woefully, as the demon now touched his face affectionately.

"It wasn't the blood. It was you. The choices you made… the path you willingly took… You didn't need to feather to fly. You had it in you the whole time, Dumbo. I know it's hard to see, but this… this is a miracle! Everything Azazel did, just to get you here… you were the only one who could do it!"

"Why… why me?" Sam's heart shattered into a million pieces. He should have listened to his brother. He should have known better, and now look what he had done!

"Because… it was always you, Sam. You saved us. You set him free, and he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways you can't even imagine!"

During this time, the elated demon had lost her focus, allowing Laura and Dean to wiggle free. The eldest Winchester was so blinded with wrath that he did not notice that the brunette was now laying on the ground, eyes blankly staring at the swirling blood.

Lunging at the unexpecting demon, Dean drew the knife, preparing to strike. Sensing that the eldest Winchester was free, Ruby spun around and declared triumphantly: "You're too late!"

"I don't care," the eldest Winchester glared with hatred at the despicable, evil being grinning at him.

As Dean advanced on Ruby, Sam gripped her from behind, rendering her defenseless. Plunging the knife deep into her rib cage, the eldest Winchester watched the lights go out in her dark, pained eyes. Then twisting the knife within her heart, the black-eyed demon named Ruby was no more.

"Dean… I… I'm sorry…" Sam brokenly whimpered, as he and his brother stared at the slowly opening door to Lucifer's prison.

The blood began to spiral as a brilliant, intense white beam of light erupted from the marble floor, breaking through the ceiling.

"He's coming…" Sam gripped his brother, as both Winchesters watched in terror at what was unfolding before them.

As the convent began to tremble, Dean yanked his dejected brother across the room.

"We gotta go," Dean yelled over the rumbling. Running towards the convent doors, he shouted to Laura that they needed to get his shell-shocked brother, as well as themselves, out of harms way. When he did not hear a response, however, the eldest Winchester looked behind him frantically.

There, across the room, his eyes fell on an entranced Laura. As the psychic stared hard into the beam of light, Dean suddenly noticed a human shape forming directly in front of her. He and Sam watched on hopelessly, and soon a luminous hand stretched out to touch Laura's emotionless face. As Dean screamed her name, the light grew brighter and brighter, and soon the door slammed shut, locking them all inside. Then, everything went white.


	31. Chapter 31

**First of all, thank you all so much for the support! I would not have been so motivated to get this far so fast without you guys! For those of you who recently began following/favoriting this story, leave some reviews so I can improve. To all of you who always give your input, THANK YOU! I take your thoughts seriously and it makes writing way more enjoyable knowing that you guys are passionate about the plot. Okay, so here is PART TWO (aka Season 5 story arch)! Things will be changing a bit since my OC is involved, and though I do not own anything but Laura Norwood and her story, I will be creating my own hunts to spice things up. Finally, just want to say that this chapter is a long one, so read/review/favorite/follow/ENJOY! THANKS AGAIN! YOU GUYS ARE DAHHH BEST!3 **

_**~ Part Two ~**_

**Chapter Thirty-One:**

A harsh, blinding white light, an intense, high-pitched ringing, the ground trembling beneath her feet, and a sharp pain shooting throughout her weakened body as a ghostly hand touched her face. And then, nothing.

Laura awoke, lying on her back, in a sunlit field. Shielding her blurry eyes from the dazzling light, the brunette sat up and blinked a few times. Where was she? The field was lush and green, the tall grasses littered with violets, honey suckle, and wild daisies. She felt a warm breeze pick up as the familiar chirping of birds and buzzing of insects filled her still-ringing ears.

Slowly rising, the psychic's head still hurt, but she felt relatively well considering what had just happened. But then again, what actually _did_ happen? Her mind searched for any real recollection of what had occurred, but the brunette kept drawing a blank.

Her thoughts then traveled to the Winchesters and she immediately grew worried. Where were they? Were they okay? Did Lucifer kill them? Deciding that the only thing she could do was to walk to the nearest town, Laura began to make her way across the field.

As she walked for what felt like hours, the scenery never changing all too much, she came across a small stream. It had grown hot, and she was thirsty, so Laura bent down and splashed some of the cool, crystal-clear water onto her sweaty face. As she tried to gather her bearings, she sighed deeply, and suddenly noticed another reflection in the slowly flowing water.

"Hello, Laura," the voice said softly.

Turning around quickly, the young woman laid eyes on a tall, blue eyed man with dirty blonde hair. He was staring at her intently, with his head cocked to the side, and a small grin plastered on his tired face.

"Who are you?" she demanded, realizing she did not have any of her weapons on her.

The man began to pace around her, examining the young woman with much interest. Scratching his chin, he chuckled a bit to himself, irritating the somewhat frightened psychic.

"I asked you a question!"

"You know very well who I am," he responded softly, yet confidently.

Gazing at her steadily, the man waited for Laura to realize whom she was actually speaking with. As the light-bulb went off in her head, her bright blue-green eyes widened slightly.

"Well you look different," she tried to come across as calm as possible, but the Devil saw right through her façade.

Thoroughly amused, he smirked: "I heard you were a bit spunky, but you're simply delectable."

Suddenly right behind her, Lucifer touched her long, wavy brown hair, causing Laura's body to grow stiff from intimidation.

"What do you want?" she tried not to tremble.

Coming back around, he cupped her face within his large, firm hands and looked deep into her eyes: "You."

The psychic's breathing was becoming more and more unsteady as fear overtook her, but for the life of her, she couldn't look away from the Lord of Hell's piercing stare.

"I've been watching you for a long time. You're unbelievably powerful… and destined for greatness," he cooed, just inches from her slightly twitching face.

"I'm flattered, and I'm sure eternity in the pit can get a little lonely, but I'll pass," Laura forced herself to smile cockily.

The brunette saw a flicker of rage flash behind the Devil's composed face, but soon that expression was replaced with a wide smile.

"As I said… I like your spunk. It makes you different from most humans. Many of your kind fear me…"

"Maybe cause you're the Devil," Laura stated boldly.

Taking a step back, he shook his head innocently: "That's a name some misguided souls gave me. My real name is much more accurate."

"Yeah, Lucifer… light bearer… I went to Catholic school," she shrugged, shoving her hands into her leather jacket, hoping that there was anything of use in there, but they were empty.

"You say my name with such contempt," the fallen angel almost appeared brokenhearted.

"Call me prejudiced," Laura smirked caustically.

Staring at her thoughtfully, the Devil sighed and turned his back towards her and gazed around at the beautiful scenery.

"I'm not the evil creature society would have you believe I am," he spoke evenly.

Laura didn't respond, but rather looked around for any possible escape route; but as if reading her frantic thoughts, Lucifer spoke again.

"Running is useless. Besides tiring yourself out, you won't get very far."

Turning back around to look at Laura, the blonde man stretched out his arms and asked: "Do you like it here? I hope you do. I made this place special for you… after a dream you had as a child."

Laura thought this place seemed familiar the entire time she had been walking around, but when the Devil spoke these oddly haunting words, the brunette's curiosity got the better of her: "Made this for me?"

"Yes. Call this your very own sanctuary… to keep you safe from the dangers of the war to come," Lucifer spoke grandly.

"Where am I?" she understandably began to freak out.

"You're safe," he replied simply.

"No…" she shook her head, as a million questions began to run through her head. Why was this place an endless field? Why had the sun not moved in the sky as time kept passing by?

Then, all of the sudden, Laura's eyes widened as she realized what was going on. Now the psychic understood why she had no recollection of ever arriving in this serene location: she had never left the convent!

Reaching for her amulet, Laura mumbled: "I'm dreaming."

Looking up, she saw Lucifer's face suddenly become dangerous: "Don't!" he seethed as her hand made contact with the familiar piece of jewelry.

The moment her delicate hand closed around the silver amulet, dark storm clouds rolled in front of the once brilliant sun. The sky immediately opened up and Laura found herself freezing in the pelting rain.

"You can run, but I will find you!" the Devil's angry yells echoed in her ears, as everything began to spin.

The wind picked up violently, as her headache came back at full force, and Lucifer's furious threats soon transformed into a shrill, pitchy noise that made her ears start bleeding. The sky lit up with a bolt of lightening, as Laura fell to her knees and Laura saw the horrifying true form of the Devil advancing towards her at full speed.

Closing her eyes and screaming in terror, Laura collapsed onto her back and fought off the pair of hands clawing at her iron grip around the amulet.

"Let me go!" she shouted, "Let me go!"

"Laura! Open your eyes!" commanded a familiar husky voice.

As the brunette's tear-filled eyes popped open, she found herself face to face with Castiel.

"Cas?" she blinked a bit in confusion.

Helping her sit up, the angel gazed at her with an expression of amazement.

"How… how are you alive?" she asked hoarsely, feeling faint and weak.

"I should ask you the same thing," the angel stated, making the brunette finally take notice of her surroundings.

Looking around, Laura realized that she was indeed still in the abandoned convent, or rather, what was left of it. The ground had a massive, smoking hole in it, and all of the walls and items within the structure were scorched and broken to miniscule pieces, as if a huge explosion went off.

Looking up, the psychic saw that there was no roof, or even much left of the walls, which explained why she was soaking wet. The rain was still pouring as a bolt of lightening illuminated the sky, allowing the young woman to see just how much she was covered in soot.

Gazing back up at the angel's perplexed blue eyes, Laura shook her head: "How did I…? What's going on?" she stumbled over her words.

Castiel shook his head as he helped the brunette to her wobbly feet. Once she was fully erect however, Laura began to frantically look around.

"Dean!" she shouted through the thunder, harsh wind, and heavy rain. "Sam!"

As she yelled for her possibly dead companions, the angel told her to stop.

"But they could still be out here!" she pushed Castiel off of her as she stumbled around the rubble.

"They are safe," he called, causing the psychic to stop what she was doing.

If they were safe, then where were they? And why was it Castiel who had come back for her?

"So they're okay?" she asked, slowly moving back towards the Heavenly host. "Then where the Hell are they?" her temporary relief melted away as she grew hurt that they had left her behind.

"Something has happened…" the angel spoke slowly, no longer able to look the brunette in the eyes.

"What? What happened?" she shook her head, blinking away the heavy raindrops impeding her vision.

Castiel still did not respond, so Laura repeated herself more firmly: "Tell me, Castiel!"

"Come with me," he said in a low voice. Then, taking her hand, the angel silently transported her from the smoldering remains of the convent.

* * *

Still soaked, Laura slowly inched her way towards the hospital bed of the sleeping Bobby Singer. Her eyes welled up with tears at the pitiful sight of the weakened hunter. He looked pale with massive dark circles underneath his closed eyes, and appeared even older without his cap; the harsh lights in the hospital room only made the man look more like a corpse.

Sitting herself down on the vacant chair beside him, Laura gingerly reached out and held his warm, rough hand. As her delicate fingers wrapped around his own, the surly hunter's fingers twitched.

"Thought you promised you'd be fine," Bobby's raspy voice muttered, as his eyes slowly opened.

Laura smiled and laughed with relief knowing that the man she had grown to adore was up and talking: "I'm here aren't I?"

Squeezing her hand, Mr. Singer tried to pull himself up, but hissed in pain.

"Lay back down," Laura said soothingly. Castiel told her that Bobby had been possessed and stabbed himself in order to save Dean's life. Because the angel was weakened after being cut off from Heaven, Castiel unfortunately could not heal their friend.

"Always so bossy," he kidded, though the bearded hunter did obey the brunette's words.

Looking at the still dripping young woman, Bobby then added with a slight chuckle: "You look like Hell."

Laura grinned and tucked a wet piece of hair behind her ear, but before anything else could be said, Dean Winchester walked into the hospital room.

Gazing at the young woman as if he'd seen a ghost, Dean's jaw dropped. His green eyes traveled from where she was seated up to her crooked grin, and then finally rested on her sparkling blue-green eyes. As he searched for words, he made his way over to her.

Laura's feelings of irritation about being left behind disappeared as she slowly rose from her chair. Instead, she felt a surge of relief spread throughout her body due to the fact that the eldest Winchester was standing before her, safe and sound. As they met at the foot of the bed, they both took no notice to the smirking Bobby Singer watching the current exchange.

"Hi," Laura smiled, looking away from Dean's gaze for a split-second.

"Hi," he said, moving forward to hug her, but once their eye-contact broke for that brief moment, he quickly changed his mind and gruffly held his hand out.

As the brunette's face flushed a slight shade of pink, she took his hand and shook it.

Clearing his throat, Dean forced out the words: "It's, um, it's good to see you."

"You too," she grinned awkwardly.

Bobby, on the other hand, rolled his eyes in exasperation and shook his head at the two of them.

Laura's eyes then traveled to the youngest Winchester, who was now standing sheepishly in the doorway. He couldn't even look at her, and the psychic could sense how guilty, depressed, and alone he felt; and although Sam messed up pretty bad, the brunette couldn't help but feel compassion for him. He had good intentions and had lost his way. His self-hatred was definitely at an all time high at the moment, and she was positive Dean was beyond livid with his brother. For these reasons, Laura suddenly got the urge to let him know that she forgave him, and that she understood why he had done what he did.

Walking forward, she greeted the youngest Winchester: "Hey, Sam."

As his eyes slowly met hers, he mumbled weakly: "Laura… I'm so sorry…"

Rather than saying anything, for no words seemed adequate, the brunette went up on her tip-toes and hugged him gently. Although his arms hung limply at his sides in defeat, Laura immediately took all of the pain and sorrow from his body. As soon as she allowed it to fill her up, the psychic also felt that the demonic darkness within him was finally gone.

* * *

"So we have no idea who put Castiel back together, or who got you two on that plane?" Laura asked, as she checked on her leather jacket drying in the sunlight.

"Not a clue," Dean sighed, drinking his newest cup of coffee.

"Demons have no leads, and the angels sure as Hell don't know," Sam mused, as Laura sulkily threw the jacket back into the sunlight, shivering a bit in her damp clothes.

Walking past Dean, Laura yanked the hot beverage from his hand and plopped back on the chair next to Bobby, ignoring the eldest Winchester's dirty looks.

"I think the better question is, where the Hell were you for four days?" Dean inquired, still pouting about his stolen coffee.

As Laura shook her head, she sipped the hot liquid and let it warm her chilly body: "Like I said, I was unconscious… in the rubble… no clue how I survived."

"And you don't remember anything?" Bobby asked skeptically, for he and both brothers could tell she was keeping something from them.

Laura shook her head and casually pulled up her gray tank-top, hoping that they didn't see the huge blistering burn she had from where Lucifer grabbed her amulet. Drinking the coffee some more, the brunette then noticed their unconvinced stares.

"Listen, I'm just as confused as you are. I mean Castiel was blown to bits and then rescues me, you two wind up on soul plane, and Dean-o is meant to be some archangel's meat-suit…" she stated, leaning back in her chair.

Dean Winchester got up from his seat and seized his drink back from the brunette, and then corrected her with a somewhat proud tone: "Michael Sword."

"Still means you're gonna be Michael's catcher," she huffed, as Sam and Bobby tried to stifle their chuckles.

A doctor knocking on the door, however, soon interrupted the brief happy moment.

"Excuse me, but I need to speak with Mr. Singer," a tall, older man in the familiar white coat read the hunter's name off of his clipboard.

After Bobby curtly nodded, Sam, Dean, and Laura dismissed themselves from the room.

"I, ugh, I'm gonna get a cup of coffee," Sam said awkwardly, glancing at his older brother almost pleadingly.

When Dean did not even acknowledge his kid brother's words, though, Laura gave the youngest Winchester a weak smile before he turned and left them alone in the middle of the hallway.

With a sigh, the brunette sat down on the couch against a wall, and Dean soon followed.

Glancing at the silent young woman from the corner of his eyes, Dean knew he had to apologize to her.

"Laura… I want you to know, we _did_ look for you… for 48 hours straight," he tried to explain, though he knew that there really was no excuse. "But then Chuck's annoying fan named Becky called and said that the angels found a weapon that could ice the Devil, so we had to check it out… and then this whole mess with Bobby happened and…" he continued to ramble on penitently, but when the brunette gently touched his hand, the eldest Winchester shut up and merely gazed into her empathetic eyes with a remorseful expression.

"It's not looking good for him, is it?" she asked, examining her amulet.

"Doc said he might never walk again," Dean spat with self-hatred.

"Don't blame yourself," the brunette spoke gently. "You know Bobby. He'd do anything to keep you safe. You're like a son to him."

"Maybe I'm just tired of having people get hurt because of me," he said darkly.

Laura didn't quite know how to respond, so rather than pressing the issue, the psychic decided to change the subject.

"How's Sam doing, by the way?" she tried to sound as casual as possible.

Right away, the eldest Winchester became defensive and cross: "I don't wanna talk about that."

"Dean… I know what he did was messed up, but he's sorry. When I hugged him… I felt how…" the psychic tried to mediate the situation, but the hunter was not having it.

"I said leave it alone," he growled.

Laura desperately wanted to make Dean see that staying angry with Sam would only cause more harm to the situation and further damage their disintegrating relationship, but she also knew how hurt the eldest Winchester was. He felt betrayed and overwhelmed, and most of all, deep down, he felt responsible for everything that had happened.

"Please, I'm just saying… don't shut him out," she tried one last time, but this just sent Dean to his feet.

"Now you listen to me, and listen good. My relationship with Sam is_ none_ of your business, so quit defending him. I don't wanna hear it," he said fiercely.

Although Laura's pride made her want to snap right back at the thick-headed man standing in front of her, she bit her tongue instead. As she glared up at him with disapproval, the doctor left the room, allowing Laura to go back inside.

Storming over to the window, she snatched up her still damp leather jacket as Dean followed her inside and leaned on the doorway. Bobby looked between the two clearly agitated hunters with a thoroughly puzzled expression.

Noticing the seasoned hunter's confused expression, Laura took a breath as she paused and calmed herself down. Walking over to Mr. Singer, she bent down and pecked him on the hairy cheek: "Get some rest. I'll be back soon, Gramps."

Eyes darting between Dean and then back to Laura, Bobby asked: "Where yah goin'?"

"Back to your place. Gotta get a head start on research to, well… you know… figure out how to kill the Devil…" she smiled grimly.

As she turned around and passed Dean, she gave him one last indignant stare and left, leaving Bobby and the eldest Winchester alone.

"What did you do?" Bobby demanded.

With an innocent look, Dean shrugged and finished his coffee, whilst Mr. Singer shook his head in utter frustration over how bull-headed the two of them were.


	32. Chapter 32

**Wow! The comments and reviews have been superb on the last two chapters! Keep it up! As I said, I really appreciate all of the support! Many of you have been following the story since the beginning, and if any newbies have gotten this far, thank you and congrats (I know it's probably been a long time coming)! Okay, well I only own my OC and I hope you guys enjoy this update! **

**Chapter Thirty-Two:**

Sam and Dean Winchester helplessly watched as Bobby silently sat in his wheelchair, staring glumly out the hospital window.

"It's been three days and he hasn't said a word," Sam muttered, as he continued to gaze at their despondent mentor and father-figure.

"He'll come around," Dean tried to put confidence behind his words, but even the eldest Winchester felt hopeless.

"What if he can't bounce back from this?" Sam asked, sighing sadly.

"Maybe he needs some cheering up," Dean suggested. "Should I give him a back-rub?"

"I wouldn't unless you wanna make him more depressed," Laura said flatly, wiping the smirk off of the eldest Winchester's face. Although they were being somewhat cordial, the psychic was still clearly annoyed at the hunter, and as she shoved a manila folder roughly into his hands, both brothers exchanged quick glances.

"You're x-rays are in," the brunette explained walking past them as she unpinned the fake ID from her light pink blouse.

Dean tried not to stare as Laura unbuttoned her black suit jacket and tossed it onto the hospital bed. Even though the chick drove him absolutely up the wall, he couldn't deny how hot she looked in her tight, business pencil skirt and pumps. As she sat down beside Bobby Singer, the psychic yanked out a deck of cards and two beers from her large purse.

Laying eyes on the much needed alcoholic beverage, Mr. Singer smiled for the first time in 72 hours.

"Don't tell anyone I snuck these in for you," the brunette smirked, crossing her long legs as she began to shuffle the deck of cards.

As Bobby willingly popped open the cans, Laura whisked a few loose curls out of her face and suddenly realized she was being stared at. While Sam had a small, heart-warming smile, the brunette noticed that the eldest Winchester was merely gawking at her form-fitting outfit.

Giving him a reprimanding look as she dealt out the cards, the psychic snapped: "Are you gonna sleep on those… or what?"

A bit startled that Laura had caught them staring, both brothers shifted positions uncomfortably as Dean cleared his throat and opened the folder. Pulling the x-rays out, he held them in the light, and as he did so, both Winchesters' jaws dropped. There, clearly engraved on each of their rib cages, were dozens of Enochian symbols.

"Well I'll be damned…" Dean said after a long whistle.

"Yeah, you boys got the doctors stumped," Laura called over as she examined her cards and sipped her beer.

"Any clue what it says?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

"It's to cloak you from all angels and demons," she sighed as Bobby won their most recent hand of poker.

Although clearly still grumpy and upset, the bearded hunter grinned ever so slightly at beating the brunette.

"You sure about that?" Dean asked skeptically, though he should have known better than to doubt the young woman.

Shooting him a dirty look, Laura responded to the eldest Winchester with a massive attitude: "Castiel had to reach you yahoos by cellphone, right? So yeah, I'd say I'm sure."

As she looked back down at her new hand, Dean silently mimicked the brunette in a mocking manner.

"I saw that," she growled, not even wasting the energy to look over at him.

"Speakin' of that useless flyin' monkey," Bobby unexpectedly spoke up, "Has he found God yet an gotten his mojo back?"

The Winchesters and Laura quickly glanced at one another as Dean responded tentatively: "We, ugh, haven't heard anything yet, Bobby."

"Then why are we bringin' him up then?" Mr. Singer snarled cynically.

As Laura opened her mouth to try to say something comforting, Bobby's phone began to ring. Still frowning, the wheelchair bound hunter shoved his hand into his frumpy bathrobe and answered: "Hello?"

Then, all of the sudden, Bobby Singer's morbid expression became one of alarm: "Rufus? Rufus! I can barely hear yah. Speak up!"

As Sam and Dean walked further into the room, they exchanged nervous glances.

"Demons? How many? I said how many!" Mr. Singer's eyes widened more and more. "Where are you? River _what_? River Pass, Colorado?" Glancing up at his three other companions with a thoroughly worried look, Bobby then asked frantically: "Ru-Rufus! Rufus, are you there? Rufus!"

Then, right before the phone call cut out, loud, constant gunshots and jarring shouts were heard on the other line.

* * *

By the time the Winchesters and their psychic companion had arrived, River Pass, Colorado indeed resembled a war-torn ghost town. Each hunter walked slowly through the debris-ridden streets, wielding their guns and ready to fire at the first sign of danger. Looking around and examining the bleak scene, they were surprised to find that although the local shops were destroyed, smoking cars were strewn all around, and bullet-holes, casings, and blood was splattered all over, there were no bodies to be found.

Glancing at one another, Sam, Dean, and Laura all began to have a sinking feeling that this was going to become way more complicated than the standard demonic attack (as if that should even be considered normal). As they made their way further from the town's main street, the three companions found themselves in a more residential area, where sprinklers were still running and the doors to houses stood ajar, indicating that whatever had happened here, had happened very fast.

Then, every single one of them paused, for in the distance, the faint sound of Norman Greenbaum's "Spirit in the Sky" playing from an unknown location. After Dean signaled them into some type of formation, they made their way cautiously around the block, and once they had rounded the corner, they were met with a strange sight, indeed.

Parked on the side of the vacant street, was a bright and shiny red Mustang. Compared to the rest of the devastated scenery, the classic muscle car was on and running, and appeared to be completely untouched by whatever had attacked the tiny Colorado town.

Inching their way forward, they circled the car as Dean tentatively leaned in and turned off the ignition. Now, standing in silence, the two hunters and psychic waited for someone, or something, to take notice, but nothing happened.

"1973… nice year," Dean commented, though Laura and Sam were too preoccupied with the situation at hand to take notice.

The youngest Winchester had wandered over to another vehicle that had blood smeared on the shattered windshield, and as he walked over to see if there were any survivors, Laura noticed a baby carriage in an adjacent bush. Both Sam and the brunette were sorely disappointed, however, when nothing was found besides more blood.

Glancing up at Sam, Laura whispered: "What the Hell happened here?"

Shaking his head slowly, the youngest Winchester was just as confused and disturbed as she was. If everyone was dead, where were the bodies?

Because all three of them were distracted, they did not notice the faint footsteps of people approaching them. Then, it was too late. As they heard three guns get cocked, Sam, Dean, and Laura immediately raised their arms in surrender and slowly turned around to face whoever their potential captures were.

Standing between a tall, muscular African American man and a shorter more rugged looking white man with a scruffy beard, was a short, curvaceous middle-aged woman with thick brown hair. Her rich brown eyes, which once appeared threatening and aggressive, immediately softened up once she laid eyes on the Winchester brothers.

"Ellen?" Dean asked, lowering his arms immediately whilst Sam did the same.

A bit confused, Laura followed their lead silently as Ellen Harvelle told her two counterparts to lower their guns. With a smile on her face, she walked over to them, but before the brothers could walk forward to hug their good friend and ally, the exhausted looking woman doused them both with holy water.

"We're not demons," Dean said with a tone of annoyance, but Ellen merely shrugged and turned her attention onto the mysterious young woman standing just behind them.

"Who's she?" she asked, never taking her suspicious brown eyes off of the brunette.

"That's Laura," Dean responded, wiping the water off of his face. "And she ain't a demon either."

Still eyeing her closely, Ellen didn't look like she was gonna take their word for it, so Laura walked forward slowly, arms up in surrender, and offered to drink the flask's contents.

With a curt nod, Mrs. Harvelle handed her the leather bound container a bit roughly, and Laura took a swig of holy water. After a few moments of no reaction, Ellen's face broke out into a wide, warm grin.

"Hi, I'm Ellen Harvelle. Sorry about that, by the way," she introduced herself, shaking Laura's hand.

Turning back around to look at the Winchesters, Mrs. Harvelle embraced them both: "Hiya boys. Good for you to show up."

* * *

Ellen had brought Laura and the Winchesters into the survivor's make-shift bunker, which was covered in devil's traps, surrounded with salt, and littered with various jugs of holy water and weapons. Walking into the main room, which served as both an armory and living quarters, Sam, Dean, and the psychic all appeared a bit unnerved.

The people of River Pass eyed the newcomers suspiciously as Ellen threw her gun onto a table.

Turning back around, she put her hands on her hips and scolded them: "I ought to whoop your asses… can't even pick up a phone to give me peace of mind? _Rufus_ had to tell me you boys were still alive!"

The sheepish and intimidated expressions of Sam and Dean's faces made Laura bite her tongue in an effort not to laugh: they looked like two little boys getting reprimanded by their mother.

As she swatted at both of them, Dean yelped out: "Hey, hey! We're sorry, Ellen!"

"Yeah, you better be. Put me on speed dial, and if you don't…" she said, raising her arm again in a slightly teasing manner, although the eldest Winchester still flinched a bit.

After a brief pause, the middle aged hunter looked over at Laura: "So how'd you get tangled up in this mess?"

"Bobby made me come to keep 'em out of trouble," the brunette teased, nodding at the Winchesters to her right.

Ellen chuckled and shook her head: "I meant, I've never heard of you before, so you must be new to all this."

The psychic nodded her head, but decided not to divulge her miserable back story.

The others in the room now felt a bit more comfortable and slowly approached the strangers.

"So what's goin' on?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. How many demons are there?" Sam piggy-backed his older brother's question.

"Pretty much the whole town… well besides the dead and us,  
she nodded over to the crowd of about thirteen forming behind her. "Guys, these are Laura, Sam, and Dean. They're friends of mine and hunters," she introduced them.

"So you guys know how to handle this whole demon thing then, huh?" the man with the black hair and scruffy beard asked.

"Yeah. And you are?" Dean asked, coming across a bit rude, but mostly because the guy had pointed a gun at him not ten minutes ago.

"Austin Brown. Sorry about before… just when you see your wife's eyes go black before she tries to strangle you, you get a bit jumpy."

Dean nodded as he noticed a man with gray hair eyeing Laura closely while playing with his ring. While the eldest Winchester stared at the man defensively, Sam asked: "So who can get us up to speed?"

"I don't know much more than you guys probably do," Ellen spoke up, crossing her arms. "Rufus just called me and said he was checkin' out some demonic omens, you know some real end of days stuff…"

Sam, Dean, and Laura all shifted uncomfortably, and then Dean urged Mrs. Harvelle to go on.

"Well then all of the sudden the whole damn town's possessed, so since me and Jo were nearby…"

"You're hunting with Jo now?" Dean interjected with an odd amount of interest.

"Yeah, for a while now, but anyways. We got here and it looked pretty much like what you just saw outside. We went to find Rufus, and then Jo and I got separated, so I was out lookin' for the both of 'em when I found you two," Ellen concluded with a worried tone and expression.

"Don't worry, we'll find her," Dean said seriously.

Laura had been feeling a bit dizzy during this whole conversation, though when observing everyone's faces in the room, she could not make out any demons among them. The only thing she did notice, though, was some middle-aged man watching her intently. Chalking it up to her powers acting up and that dude being an old creep, Laura's attention was immediately peaked once the eldest Winchester stated with an intense amount of determination that they would find _her. _So Jo was a woman?

Sam's words then pulled the brunette back into focus as he stated: "Well these people can't just sit here."

Noticing a very pregnant woman's extremely nervous reaction, Ellen spoke up: "It's, ugh, it's not that easy. We all ready made a run for it once…"

"And what happened?" the youngest Winchester inquired, as the man in the business suit with oddly blue eyes picked at his ring some more.

"There used to be twenty of us," the pregnant woman squeaked, eyes darting among the four hunters.

"Well there's more of _us_ now," Dean stated firmly.

"You don't know what it's like out there… demons are everywhere… we can't cover everyone," argued the African American man.

"What if everyone get's a gun?" Laura suggested, as Sam and Dean nodded their heads in agreement.

"We don't have enough ammunition," a Pastor pointed out.

"There was a sporting goods store not far… I'm sure they got enough ammo for us," Laura said thoughtfully. "We can send a group there and go for a supply run while we're at it."

Ellen nodded her head as she picked back up her rifle, but Dean stepped in: "You should stay behind and prep them how to use a gun," he muttered.

As she gave him a protesting look, the eldest Winchester then added: "If Jo and Rufus are out there, we'll bring 'em back."

After a minute or two, Ellen sighed and agreed to help teach the civilians how to use their weapons properly.

Checking the bullets in her hand-gun and then shoving it in the back of her jeans, Laura spoke seriously: "Okay, so let's go."

Picking up her rifle, the brunette headed towards the door, with Sam and Dean close behind her.


	33. Chapter 33

**Okay, before you read away, don't hate me! I know many of you are dying for Dean to get his crap together and realize he needs to start treating Laura better, and it WILL happen, but keep in mind Dean's character. He's stubborn, damaged, stressed, and even insecure. Most of all, he and Laura are so similar in that they push people away for fear of getting hurt and losing loved ones, so they're bound to butt heads more often than not. But it will happen, and I can't wait to write that epic scene for you guys. Putting a lot of thought into it so its perfect and fits their personalities and the story. Ummmmm other than that rant, read/favorite/follow/review/ENJOY! (And I only own my OC) :D**

**Chapter Thirty-Three:**

Laura and Sam were wandering through the local quick-mart, gathering food, water, and rock salt. As the brunette stuffed both her bag and the youngest Winchester's with as many supplies they could carry, Sam was keeping watch.

"Refried beans or kidney beans?" Laura asked, interrupting Sam's thoughts.

"Um… what?" the distracted youngest Winchester asked.

Chuckling a bit, she repeated herself with a sweet smile: "Do you think they'd rather refried beans or kidney beans?"

"Oh," Sam smirked, "Ugh… I'd go with kidney?" he ventured with a shrug.

"I was thinking those too," the psychic responded, throwing the cans into the bag, as Sam's smile drooped back into a trouble frown.

Although the situation was undeniably awful, Laura couldn't help but notice how somber the youngest Winchester appeared, so the brunette decided to try to lighten the mood some more.

"I get why Pamela always called you Grumpy," she tried to kid her way into an obviously deep conversation.

"I'm sorry?" the still unfocused hunter asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"I mean, you're just always so brooding," Laura explained as she casually stood up and walked across the isle to grab some waters. Then looking over her shoulder, she added: "And don't get me wrong… it's dark and mysterious and it works for you, but it must be so tiring!"

Sam knew what she was doing. Dean would do the same thing when he was worried about him. His brother was never one for serious, emotional talks, but when the eldest Winchester thought his baby brother needed to open up, he'd always start the conversation with a joke rather than taking a more direct approach. But that was when Dean wanted to talk to him… back when he wasn't so hurt and still trusted him. Sam had felt the distance growing between himself and his brother ever since Dean got back from Hell, but after what happened in the convent, their relationship no longer felt disconnected; it felt broken, and it was all his fault.

"I mean, I just brought on judgment day… maybe I'm not in the smiling mood," Sam muttered mostly to himself.

Zipping up the first duffel bag, Laura turned around and swapped it out with the half filled on in Sam's hand. Looking up at him, she shook her head in utter frustration.

"You both don't get it, do you?"

Giving her a perplexed look, Sam allowed her to explain what she meant.

"You and your brother… both of you are so quick to blame yourselves for this mess," Laura began collecting more waters.

"But I did. I killed Lilith and broke the last seal… I'm the reason Lucifer's topside… even Dean thinks it… he won't even look at me," Sam's voice dropped.

"He's hurt, and yeah, he may not trust you right now, but he loves you. You're his little brother… nothing's gonna change that," she stated firmly, as they both made their way into the neighboring isle. "Besides, I know for a _fact_ he doesn't blame you for this cause that idiot's too busy thinking its all his fault ever since he broke in Hell."

"Yeah, well he wouldn't have even gone to Hell if it wasn't for me so…" the youngest Winchester trailed off bitterly.

After throwing more bags of rock salt into the duffel, Laura turned around heatedly: "So call it a joint effort then… you died so Dean sacrificed his soul to get you back… he went to Hell and broke the first seal. Then we _all_ couldn't keep Lilith from breaking 64 more, and then you wasted the bitch," she threw the heavy bag over her shoulder: "Point is, we all had a role in this and messed it up, so there's no point sitting around blaming ourselves or each other… it's just a waste of time and won't change anything."

Gazing down at the tiny spitfire of a young woman, Sam could not wrap his head around the idea that she didn't hate him or think he was some kind of monster. He sure did, and even Dean believed it, but not Laura. She didn't even seem mad at them for constantly messing up and making her life more complicated.

"You know why Dean suggested we go together right?" Sam asked as they walked down the isle.

Grabbing a few bags of chips and stuffing them into a shopping bag, Laura gave her witty response: "Cause he was afraid I'd rip him a new asshole."

"He wanted someone around to keep an eye on me in case some demons showed up," he said, completely ashamed.

Laura felt truly horrible about how strained their relationship had gotten, so reaching out, she touched the youngest Winchester's arm: "He won't be like this forever, Sam. He just needs some time."

"I'm just… I'm tired of letting him down, you know? He raised me, let me have my childhood, and what did I do? I ran off and went to Stanford the first chance I got… didn't give a crap how bad he felt about it, but there he was, takin' care of me after Jess died. And then I repay him by goin' behind his back and lying for some demon? He has every right to hate me… I'd hate me," Sam sulkily ranted as self-loathing consumed him.

The psychic shook her head, not knowing how to respond, and as she searched for the words, the bell chimed as two black-eyed demons entered the shop.

For a moment, all four of them stared at one another, but then everybody opened fire. Ducking and dodging the flying bullets, Laura and Sam dove into the isle and reloaded their rifles. As they did so, the psychic couldn't help but wonder why the demons were using guns at all, but before she could raise that valid question, one of the black-eyed bastards snuck up behind them and tackled Sam onto the ground.

"Sam!" she shouted, trying to pry the filthy creature off of her friend.

As she did so, Laura was grabbed from behind by the other demon. The heavy-set young man threw her into the isle as she struggled to reach the hand-gun that fell out of her jeans.

Receiving a swift punch to the face, Laura's head slammed back into the metal shelving. The demon glared at her menacingly as he tried to strangle her, but then the psychic realized something: though his eyes were as black as night, there was no hideous, demonic face underneath his human one.

"Wait," she struggled to get out as she became light-headed from lack of oxygen, "Please."

A loud gurgling noise was then heard as Sam stabbed and killed the demon attacking him with Ruby's knife. Throwing the limp corpse aside, the youngest Winchester charged the black-eyed being assaulting the psychic.

Knocking him off of her, Sam raised the knife.

"Wait! Sam! Don't!" Laura shouted, but it was too late. Sam had lodged the blade deep into the demon's jugular, splattering blood everywhere.

As the woozy brunette slowly rose to her feet, she began to gather their things, fearing that more of the enemy would show up. Once she turned around, though, the psychic soon saw Samuel Winchester gazing down at the puddle of crimson blood in a trans-like state.

"S-Sam…" she called softly, as he was clearly struggling with his addictive urges. "Sam… c'mon…"

Then the store's door burst open, and by the time the bell chimed, the thoroughly worried eldest Winchester was standing before them.

"What happened?" he demanded, staring down at the massive pool of demonic blood and his now composed little brother.

"Demons," Sam stated, rising off the ground and wiping the blood off the blade before putting it away.

Still eyeing Sam a bit nervously, Dean picked up the rifle from the ground as his kid brother turned to Laura.

"You okay?" the youngest Winchester asked with concern.

"Ugh, yeah… I think," she muttered, touching the lump forming on the back of her head. Feeling a warm, sticky substance, she pulled her bloody hand back. "But I think I may need to go back…"

Looking at the large amount of blood dropping from her hands, Sam and Dean exchanged fretful glances, as Dean stated: "Yeah… I'd say it's time to go."

* * *

"Ow!" Laura flinched as Dean poured alcohol onto the deep gash in the back of her head.

"Quit your bitchin'… I haven't even started stitching you up yet," the eldest Winchester lisped, for he was holding the needle between his teeth.

Dousing her scalp with more booze, he watched her cringe some more, and from how hard she was gripping the end of the table, Dean could tell she was in a lot of pain. Admittedly the cut was deep, and he wasn't the most graceful person to patch up a wound, so he decided to try to take her mind off of it.

"Think they'll be ready to go out there?" he asked, as they both looked over at an exasperated Ellen and Sam trying to instruct the townspeople of River Pass.

As the man in the business suit dropped a gun and almost set it off, Laura responded bleakly: "Definitely not _that_ guy."

Chuckling a bit, Dean shook his head as he pushed some more of her soft, dark brown hair away from the injury. Taking the needle, he wove it through one end of the cut as Laura grimaced in pain.

"That demon got you pretty good… how'd he get the one up on you?"

"I was distracted," the psychic responded honestly, thinking back to how weird her abilities were acting back there.

"What? Did you see a pair of shoes on sale or somethin'?" he teased idiotically. He knew very well that Laura wasn't some prissy chick. If something had distracted her at a time like that, it was probably something big.

"Ha, ha, ha… very funny," she hissed as he continued to stitch up her smarting cut.

"But seriously… what was it?" the eldest Winchester inquired, putting all jokes aside.

"I, ugh, I'm not sure the demons that attacked us were actually, well, demons," the brunette tried to explain, but the words even sounded confusing to her.

Cutting the string and dabbing her now closed wound with some more alcohol, Dean responded with a slight laugh: "Care to put that in English?"

Swiveling around on the table to face the eldest Winchester, Laura looked up at him with a very troubled expression: "It's just… they didn't _look_ like normal demons to me…"

"Their eyes were black weren't they?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Scratching the back of her neck, the brunette attempted to clarify: "Yes, but their faces were different." As Dean continued to stare at her blankly, she sighed and continued: "I can see what demons really look like… like how you could before you went to Hell."

"And?" he asked with a nod.

"And I didn't see the demonic ones underneath the humans they were possessing. It's weird," she raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe you're getting' rusty," he tried to kid around some more.

Pursing her lips, Laura replied: "I'm serious, Dean… somethin' doesn't feel right."

"You did bang your head pretty hard," the eldest Winchester admitted thoughtfully. "Maybe it messed up your signal?"

Biting her lip, Laura nodded slowly. Maybe that _was_ it. Maybe she simply smacked her head too hard.

"Thanks for stitching me up," she hopped off the table, but as she did so she lost her balance for a split second.

"Whoa, take it easy," Dean caught her in his chest.

Looking down at her brilliant, sparkling blue-green eyes, he felt his breath hitch at how close their bodies were. Her face flushed a warm, rosy color as a small, sheepish smile parted her plump lips. Still holding onto her, he felt her heart beating fast, and he wondered if she wanted the same thing. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, they forgot they weren't alone.

"Ellen, come back!" Sam's yelling snapped Laura and Dean out of it.

Straightening herself up, Laura backed away as Dean awkwardly turned to see what was going on.

"I can't sit here on my ass anymore. My daughter's out there! If I'm not back in a half hour, get them out of here," Mrs. Harvelle threw on her jacket and grabbed her rifle.

"Let me come with you at least," Sam volunteered as the eldest Winchester walked over.

"Whoa, can I talk to my brother for a minute," Dean chimed in.

Ellen shrugged impatiently as Sam glanced at his brother with a look of annoyance, and then looked across to Laura with an expression as if saying 'told you so.'

Once they made it to the corner, Dean said in a hushed voice: "I think I should go."

"It's fine. Stay here. Get 'em ready while I cover Ellen," Sam said urgently trying to push past his brother, but Dean wasn't having it.

"Why's it gotta be you?" the eldest Winchester persisted.

"Oh yeah… that's right. You think one look at a demon and I'll fall off the bandwagon… as if after everything, I haven't learned my lesson…" he spat, utterly frustrated and hurt that his older brother was acting this way.

"Well have you?" Dean barked.

Sam glared at his brother and pushed Dean hard into the wall: "You actually think…" he growled, but soon felt a delicate hand rest on his shoulders.

"Go help Ellen," Laura's soft voice spoke, calming him down a bit.

Releasing his older brother with a sigh, Sam stormed away, gathered his things, and left with a clearly confused and somewhat upset Ellen Harvelle.

* * *

It had been a while since Ellen had left with Sam, so the two hunters busied themselves by working with the survivors from the small Colorado town. As the brunette tried to explain how to reload a gun for the third time to the man in the business suit, who was apparently named Roger, she couldn't help but notice Dean's stormy disposition.

He was excessively quiet and short since the small quarrel he had with his little brother, and Laura knew that the eldest Winchester was still not too happy about Sam being surrounded by walking demonic blood-bags. And as time kept ticking away, the brunette saw him growing more and more antsy, obviously concerned about why Ellen and his brother had not returned yet.

"Gonna go organize some supplies before we head out," Dean muttered gruffly, walking into another smaller room.

After commanding everyone to try to relax and go over what was just taught, the young woman followed the eldest Winchester into the mini armory.

"Want help?" she asked, steadily watching him divide the weapons and ammunition.

Merely shrugging as a sign of consent, Dean continued to work with a highly displeased demeanor.

Positioning herself across the table, Laura began to pour holy water into smaller containers, and after a few minutes of thick, uncomfortable silence, she decided to speak.

"Think they're ready for what's out there?" the brunette didn't bother to look up from what she was doing.

"Not a chance," he grumbled, continuing to count the number of rounds in the cartridge he was holding.

Laura snorted a bit and shook her head: "Gotta say, love the faith…"

"I just call it as I see it," the eldest Winchester responded shortly.

Glancing up at him, Laura's blue-green eyes looked him hard in the face: "You sure do…"

Slamming the weapons down onto the table with a surprising amount of force, Dean snapped: "You got somethin' on your mind?"

A bit startled, but mostly tired of his stubborn attitude, Laura shot back in vexation: "Yeah, maybe I do."

"Well don't make me hold my breath…" he outstretched his arms in an almost challenging manner.

"You're bein' an ass and you know it," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I swear if you bring up Sammy I'll…" the eldest Winchester rumbled, but Laura cut him off aggressively.

"You'll what? Throw another temper tantrum? Honestly! I get your pissed, but you need to get off your brother's case," she said with raised eyebrows and an exasperated tone.

"What? All of the sudden you two are buddies? What happened to you wanting to kill him?" Dean snarled.

"That's a load of crap and you know it," the psychic spat. "He messed up royally and he's sorry… and you riding him this hard isn't gonna make him feel any better about it."

"He _lied_. He lied to you, to Bobby, and he lied to _me_," he cried incredulously. "Sam chose to trust a demon and became a juiced up, back-stabbing dick… and you expect me to act like everything's fine and dandy?"

"No. I'm saying just give him a chance," Laura tried to keep her voice calm and even, though all she wanted to do was beat some sense into him.

"A chance to what? Go behind my back and hulk out on demon blood so more?" Dean fumed.

"You really think he'd do that again? He knows how bad he hurt you! Sam's sorry and he knows he's gotta earn your trust, but you can't turn your back on him!" the brunette seethed in infuriation.

"He turned his back on me the second he chose Ruby… so why shouldn't I return the favor? Huh?" the eldest Winchester shook his head furiously.

"Because Sam's your _brother_, and you can't just run out on your family when the shit hits the fan!" the heated brunette tried to knock some sense into him. He had to realize that they needed to overcome this. Dean relied on his brother as much as Sam relied on him, and the world relied on them both to patch things up if there was to be any hope in stopping Lucifer.

"Oh like you should talk," Dean's words sliced into the psychic like a knife. "I mean that's what you did to your family, right? Ran out on them."

Laura felt like she had just gotten the wind knocked out of her. Her stomach knotted as red hot tears began to form in her heartbroken eyes. How could he have said that to her? How?

Shaking, the brunette didn't know whether to burst into tears or leap across the table and bash his face in: "You know what, Dean? Screw you! After all I've done for you… all I've risked for you and your brother, this is how you treat me?" she blinked away her tears furiously.

Immediately regretting his words, the triumphant look on the eldest Winchester's face soon faltered. He had hit way below the belt in order to win the fight. Dean always knew that the only reason why Laura ran away from her loved ones was to keep them safe, and now he had just thrown that back in her face.

"Laura… I'm…"

"No!" a few tears escaped the young woman's blazing eyes. "I don't wanna hear it! I'm tired of making excuses for you! I tired of trying to look past that phony arrogance and bad attitude you use to hide how broken you are. I can't keep trying to help you," she shook her head despairingly.

As she stormed towards the door, Dean tried to block her path. Reaching out to stop her, he grabbed Laura's slender arm.

"Get off me!" she yanked her arm free with a look of fury and loathing.

"Just let me…" he tried to grab her again pleadingly.

Shoving him as hard against the wall as she could, Laura gazed up at him with an expression of utter hatred and said darkly: "Don't! The second we solve this case and save these people I'm gone. So congratulations Dean, you _finally_ got what you wanted… I'm done."


	34. Chapter 34

**So you guys, as usual, are THE BEST EVER! Especially for how patient you've all been, but don't worry! It will pay off! Okay, here's the next chapter (second in 24 hours!), so review your thoughts if yah got the time! 3 **

**Chapter Thirty-Four:**

"Where's Sam?" Dean demanded as a shaken Ellen drank a glass of water.

Shaking her head, she couldn't look at the eldest Winchester.

"They took him… didn't they?" the pregnant woman asked while she and Laura were going over the escape plan a bit more.

Laura, who had been avoiding Dean's earnest and apologetic stares, finally looked up and made brief eye contact with him. Looking away as if she were merely glancing at a passing stranger, she gazed at the guilty looking Ellen Harvelle.

"They got Jo too… one of 'ems in her…" the middle aged woman's voice trembled.

"Don't worry, Ellen. We'll get him back… and Jo…" she said with a comforting tone.

Ellen glanced at the brunette appreciatively, though the young woman's words didn't ease her thoughts very much.

"Could the demons come in here? Can they get _us_?" the pregnant woman asked with wide, panicked eyes.

"No," Dean said darkly, as the pit in his stomach grew even larger. What if Sam was dead? The last thing he let his brother think was that he hated him. Why was he so thick-headed?

Grabbing his things, Dean headed towards the door, intending to go out and solve the problem himself: "Okay, everybody sit tight… I gotta…"

"Sit down," Laura's harsh voice commanded dangerously.

Dean paused and turned back around. The brunette was now standing, arms propped up on the table, as her piercing blue-green eyes glared at him with a disapproving and loathing expression. Dean's every instinct told him to tell her to sit down and let him handle it, but then his gaze rested on the townspeople, nervously watching his every move closely. They were relying on him. He couldn't just walk away.

Sighing, the eldest Winchester retreated, finally listening the very angry voice of reason.

"You guys need to tell us everything," Laura spoke slowly. "We need a better plan."

Everyone nodded tentatively, for the citizens of the small war-torn Colorado town were not ready to fight this battle, but they knew that they really had no choice.

"How did this all start? What got that guy Rufus's attention?" the psychic asked, looking around at all of them.

"He said somethin' about the water… that's all I got," Ellen shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

"Padre… you know what she's talking about?" Dean asked, turning his full attention onto the pastor.

"The river ran polluted out of nowhere. No one had an explanation for it…"

"When?" the eldest Winchester asked, as a now somewhat disturbed Laura walked over to her own bag and began to search for something.

"Last Wednesday, and the next day is when people started getting possessed," the man of God responded, watching the brunette hurriedly rummage through her belongings.

"Anything else? Doesn't matter how far out it seems," Dean pressed the group.

This time Austin spoke: "There, ugh, there was a shooting star…"

Dean and Ellen glanced at one another as the man continued: "It was real big… happened on Wednesday night."

"That definitely counts," Laura called as she walked over with a musty book in her delicate hand.

"So you think this is some sort of alien thing then?" the pregnant woman asked, thoroughly confused.

"This ain't X-Files, lady," Dean retorted as Laura continued to flip through the pages.

After finding the right one, she plopped the book down in front of Dean and Ellen.

"And there fell a great star from Heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was Wormwood. And many men died," Laura recited without looking at the page.

"I knew that sounded familiar," Dean practically groaned as the seriousness of the situation escalated even more.

"What? What does that mean?" Austin asked, eyes darting around.

"It's Revelations 8.10," the Pastor breathed. "Are you saying this whole thing… this is part of the apocalypse?"

"Seems like it," Ellen muttered.

"The omens are specific," Dean said thoughtfully with furrowed eyebrows. "What are they preluding to?"

The pastor's fretful voice was barely audible when he first tried to respond, but once the eldest Winchester asked him to repeat himself, the man stuttered: "The coming of the Four Horsemen."

"And which one rides a red horse?" Dean asked, the wheels in his head clearly turning a mile a minute.

"War," Laura replied with raised eyebrows, as if this all was beginning to make sense.

Looking at Laura excitedly, Dean recalled: "That red Stang on Main Street…"

The brunette nodded her head in avid agreement.

"You think War is driving a sports car?" the pregnant woman asked in disbelief.

"If I were runnin' around in the 21st Century, that would be my ride," Dean pointed out. "I mean think about it, it all makes sense."

"But what about the _demons_?" the Pastor asked the question which was on everybody's mind.

"There are no demons," the brunette stated firmly, as everyone turned to look at her. "I told you there was something different about them… they had to use guns to attack me and Sam… since when do they do that? And I told you… they looked off," she explained mostly to the eldest Winchester.

As what the psychic had just said clicked in his head, Ellen spoke up in realization: "Jo did call me a black-eyed bitch…"

"So War's in town and he's messin' with our heads…" Dean mused out loud.

"So there's no demons at all? He's just making us think that?" Austin cried, suddenly realizing that his wife was killed for no reason.

Laura, though she felt horrible for the guilt-ridden townspeople, simply felt extreme anger bubble up inside of her: "The bastard's tricked you guys into wasting one another."

"Oh my God!" the Pastor exclaimed in despair.

"This has nothin' to do with God," the brunette said darkly.

Everyone simply stood there in silence for a minute or two, letting the fact that the apocalypse was indeed upon them sink in. Then, there was a loud banging on the bunker's door.

"Hey, guys! Let me in! Let me in!" called a frenzied male voice as he pounded on the door. "It's Roger, let me inside!"

As Austin checked the peephole, the three hunters exchanged suspicious glances. Why had he left the bunker? And where did he go?

Before they could voice their fears, however, a panting and seemingly terrified Roger entered the room.

"I saw them… and ran here as fast as I could…" the man in the business suit gasped for air: "They know we're trying to leave… they're gonna pick us off one by one."

"Hold on, I thought you said there were no demons," Austin immediately turned to the three hunters.

"There aren't," Laura stated firmly, knowing exactly who Roger really was. "Where were you?"

"I thought someone should go out there and see what's going on!" Roger exclaimed defensively.

"We can't just sit here… they're coming and they're gonna kill us!" the pregnant woman whimpered.

"They're not comin'!" Dean argued back angrily.

"We need to go after them… get them before they get us!" Roger spoke charismatically, and Laura could have sworn she saw a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The now fully incited and frantic crowd of townspeople agreed vehemently: "He's right!" the Pastor said.

"Hold on!" Dean tried to calm the craziness, but Austin spoke over him.

"No, man. We got people to protect!" the man began to hand the guns out. "Every able-bodied person needs to go out and hunt down the demons."

"Whoa… this isn't a demon thing," the eldest Winchester continued to try to quell the mob-like mentality growing amongst the people of River Pass.

As Roger twisted his ring, he pointed at Dean, Ellen, and Laura, crying out: "Look! Look at their eyes! They've been demons all along!"

"Wait…" Ellen said slowly, as the citizens gasped in horror.

Austin and the pastor raised their guns, fully prepared to shoot to kill, as Dean muttered to both of his companions: "Go! Go!"

As they bolted towards the door, a loud shotgun blast nearly missed the brunette's head as they yanked the bunker door open.

"Move it!" Dean yelled as they sprinted away as fast as they could.

And with the mob-like crowd too preoccupied with their newest 'threat', no one from the town of River Pass noticed the wide, triumphant smile on Roger's smug face.

* * *

"You sure this is the place?" Dean asked, as he, Laura, and Ellen crouched behind some bushes.

Gazing at the house with a dark, determined expression, Mrs. Harvelle nodded her head: "That's where they took Sam."

"Okay, so what's the plan? We can't exactly go barging in there without weapons," Laura pointed out.

"And if I know Rufus, he's got that whole place wired to blow us to bits if we try the wrong door," Ellen stated a bit hopelessly.

"So we check for the trip wires," the eldest Winchester responded, as if it was the easiest task in the world to accomplish.

"Fine. Care to go first?" Laura asked with false pleasantness behind her voice.

"I was kinda hopin' you would," he shot back with just as much of an attitude.

"Will you two quit it?" Ellen scolded them both in exasperation. "We're runnin' out of time."

"Okay, okay… but even if we _do_ get in there in one piece, we still have the whole town gunning for us," Laura stated.

"Our only chance is if we get Jo, Rufus, and Sam back," the eldest Winchester spoke honestly.

"So we'll split up," the brunette peered at every window of the house intently, hoping to see any signs of movement.

Dean wearily looked at her in protest: "What?"

"Look, we don't have many options here. Ellen, you convince Jo we're not demons… Dean you take of Rufus while I get Sam," the psychic gave him a stern look.

The eldest Winchester knew she was right, though he didn't like the idea very much.

"Fine," he nodded in agreement as Ellen Harvelle did the same. Now turning to examine the house, Dean pointed towards the back door: "He definitely rigged that one… it's the only door without windows to keep watch from."

"So we'll use the side door," Ellen started to make a move for what she thought would be the safest entrance into the home.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm with a small, wicked smirk: "I got a better idea."

* * *

The second she heard the explosion go off, Laura kicked in the window closest to the staircase. Waiting a moment or two, she peeked inside and did not see anyone. Inhaling deeply, the brunette stepped through, avoiding the shattered glass, and jumped down at the foot of the stairs. Silently waiting, she listened to Ellen struggling with someone, presumably her daughter.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle, you listen to me!" the psychic heard the hunter's forceful voice reverberate throughout the quaint home.

Looking around one more time, Laura then made her journey up the stairs as silently as possible. Once she had arrived at the landing, she heard the floorboards creak in the room just ahead. Stopping dead in her tracks, the brunette was afraid to even breathe. After a moment or two of waiting with her hunting knife drawn, Laura then tentatively inched her way towards the doorframe of the room.

Using the shiny blade as a mirror, she peered inside and spotted a teenage boy, probably around 18 or so, holding a hunting rifle. He must not have heard the commotion downstairs, for he was busy posing in the mirror with his weapon.

"I said put your hands up," he said aggressively into the mirror, and after a long, serious pause, he smiled to himself in amusement. "I look pretty boss…"

Laura shook her head with a small smirk, and once the boy turned back to his post at the window, she scurried past the door undetected. Hearing the guy's whistling behind her, Laura then checked the next room: empty.

After she checked the third empty room, the whistling had stopped, causing the brunette to pause. Then, she spotted him. Tied up to a chair, Laura made out the image of Samuel Winchester through the slightly opened door across the hall. Checking behind her, she tip-toed across the wooden floors and quickly ducked inside the room.

She must have startled the youngest Winchester, for he jumped at the psychic's sudden appearance.

"Laura!" he whispered, as she closed over the door quietly.

Turning back around, she rushed over and began to cut his bonds: "Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?"

"Not much… but Laura… it's not demons! It's Roger… he's…" he said with a rushed voice as his arms were now free.

"He's War. Yeah, we know," she moved down to his ankles. "What we can't figure out his how he's doing it…"

"His ring," Sam answered as the loud bangs of gunshots rang out. Glancing at Sam, Laura cut the last rope loose, freeing the young hunter completely.

As he went to get up, his eyes widened at something or someone behind her, and in a swift motion, he pulled her down with him as he yelled: "Down!"

Just before they crashed down hard onto the ground, a gun was fired directly at them. Looking up, they saw the teenage boy with black eyes, getting ready to fire on them again.

"Wait! Wait! We aren't demons!" Sam shouted, as he put his hands up.

"You expect me to believe that?" the 18 year old with dark red hair raised his weapon.

"Sammy!" Dean's shouts distracted the young man long enough for Sam to knock him down and get the gun out of his hands.

"Sam!" Dean appeared as his brother continued to struggle with the young man.

Yanking the kid off of his little brother, Dean punched him square in the face, knocking him out. Shaking his now aching hand a bit, he helped Sam up and brushed him off.

"You okay?" the eldest Winchester asked gruffly, though it was clear he was indeed, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam caught his breath as more gunshots echoed just outside the house.

"Look this reunion's fun an all, but we gotta get out of here," Laura stated frantically, after looking outside the window.

The Winchesters nodded in agreement as Sam picked up the kid's gun and all three of them rushed out of the room.

As Sam and Dean started to make their way towards the staircase, Laura stopped them: "No, wait. This way!" she hissed, nodding over to the bathroom.

Prying the window open, Dean ushered Laura outside, let Sam go before him, and then made his way down the drainage pipe himself. Hopping off, they each pressed their bodies against the house as more gunshots went off.

Shaking her head, Laura looked back at the boys: "They're not gonna stop unless we find Roger and get that ring."

"Stop firing!" Rufus's shouts could be heard.

Eyes darting around, Sam spotted an opening in the side fence. Nodding at it, they all ran for it unnoticed.

"So he gets his powers from that ring?" Dean asked for clarification as they made their way down the desolate street.

"Seems like it," Sam responded, but soon Laura shushed at them to stop.

Ducking behind a blood-stained mini-van, they spotted Roger walking towards his car like he didn't have a single care in the world.

War was whistling and felt around his pockets for his car keys. Hearing more gunshots go off, he paused and smiled to himself, as if those horrible sounds were music to his ears. Finally finding his keys, he then sighed merrily, and reached for the door, only to have his arm twisted by Dean Winchester.

Laughing smugly, War eyed Sam as he held Ruby's knife: "Sweet knife, but c'mon… you can't kill War, kiddos."

"Who said anything about killing you," Laura spoke menacingly as Dean slammed Roger's hand onto the hood of his mustang.

War's eyes then widened in fear as Sam slashed the razor sharp blade across all four of his fingers, severing them completely and causing the ring to fall to the ground. And then, the moment the silver piece of jewelry clattered onto the pavement, War and his mustang were gone.

Everyone looked around with somewhat bewildered expressions, but the moment that War was gone, the gunshots ceased.

"I guess it's over?" Dean asked, as Sam bent down and picked up the ring.

"I guess so…" he examined it quickly, and then tossed it over to his older brother.

"One down… only three more to go…" Dean tried to sound optimistic, but his lighthearted demeanor faded once he saw Laura walking away from them.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Sam asked, calling after her.

The brunette turned around with a grave expression on her face: "Like I told your brother… I only stuck around to help save what's left of this town. We did the job, and now I'm gonna hit the road."

"But why? Come back to Bobby's with us," the youngest Winchester looked confused, glancing back at Dean, who now appeared extremely guilt-ridden.

Laura merely glared at Sam's big brother with an expression of thorough disgust. "Take care, Sam," she turned her gaze onto the youngest Winchester with a stiff expression.

And with that, the brunette turned on her heel and emotionlessly walked off down the debris-ridden street without a second look behind her.


	35. Chapter 35

**1. THANK YOU, THANK YOU for the reviews and support guys! I see some newcomers are posting their thoughts, and I really appreciate it, so keep doing it! (And anyone who hasn't reviewed and has any thoughts or pointers, feel free to post them!) 2. This hunt is my own creation. I research the monster, came up with how to kill it, and the general hunt itself, and all that jazz, but my main reason for writing this mini sub-plot from scratch is to help reveal some of Laura's role to come in the apocalypse as well as divulge some of her past (so these chapters are gonna be HUGE for story/character development and backstory!) 3. this chapter is kinda short, but it's all Sam and Dean centric so besides that, I'll let y'all get to reading! ENJOYYYYYY! Oh, a little hint for what's to come: google translate the latin ;) **

**Chapter Thirty-Five:**

Here Lies _Laura Norwood_

_~ January 26, 1987 – April 4, 2011~_

_Domina Gratia, Victimam Bestiae._

Dean Winchester stood, staring blankly at the beautiful tombstone. Compared to the rest of the surroundings, the late psychic's grave was enchanting and full of life. It wasn't defiled and dying like the rest of the Earth, but rather the vines' sweet pea flowers were in full bloom, elegantly decorating the light gray headstone.

The stoic hunter then knelt down and placed his mother's silver wedding band on the gravestone, whispered something inaudibly, and then turned back around to face his past self.

"How did this happen?" past Dean's eyes blinked back tears of grief and disbelief.

"Doesn't really matter, does it? She's gone," the eldest Winchester from 2014 responded blankly.

"Doesn't matter? Laura's dead!" 2009 Dean cried in frustration. His future self was callous and warped, but even he knew that this other Dean would _have_ to feel _something_ while staring down at the young woman's grave.

"Yeah. I know," future Dean snarled, adjusting his thigh-holster and looking around before getting into his past self's face. "And you really wanna know why? Cause I failed her! I let her down, and I couldn't protect her!"

The present Dean looked into his future self's blazing green eyes. Though this Dean clearly felt sorrow and guilt over Laura's passing, the look in his face was alien… as if this future self, standing before him, was a completely different person.  
"Tell me what you did wrong, then, so I can keep her safe," the eldest Winchester from 2009 glared back.

"You can't. Just like you can't stop Sam from sayin' yes… just like you can't stop this damned apocalypse from takin' over!"

"How do you know?" he shot back in utter infuriation.

"Cause I'm you!" the hunter from 2014 bellowed.

The present Dean Winchester shook his head in disbelief and said coldly: "I am _not _you. I would never use my friends as bait to try to kill the Devil… I'd never do that to Cas, Chuck, or any of those other suckers you let march to their deaths!"

"You say that now, but until you've seen what I've seen and gone through this nightmare, you'd be surprised how quick you'd turn into this," the future eldest Winchester retorted darkly. "You _really_ wanna know what it's gonna take to stop this… to not end up here?" he challenged his now somewhat intimidated past self.

The present Dean Winchester felt a massive knot growing in his stomach, for deep down he knew what the strange shadowy remnant of his self was going to say.

"Put your pride aside and say yes. Say yes to Michael… I don't know if it'll save Sammy, but it'll sure as Hell save a lot of other people… and it'll save _her_," future Dean said fiercely, and as his former self opened his mouth to respond, a crackling noise was heard as someone approached.

Spinning around, both Dean Winchesters saw a figure appear in the dilapidated and crumbling doorway of the courtyard. There, standing before them in a brilliant, pure white suit, was Sam.

The present Dean's heart sank, for he could see it in his brother's face, that Samuel Winchester was gone. His little brother had gave in and said yes to Lucifer.

Future Dean, on the other hand, looked upon the Devil residing in his brother's body with an expression of pure malice.

Walking slowly and casually, Lucifer looked around. The dirt had dried up, the trees and flowers were long since dead, and even the sky appeared to be a lifeless shade of gray. Making his way to Laura's grave, his large hand delicately and affectionately touched a wilting flower, immediately bringing it back to its full bloom.

Then, after a long, almost sad look at the late psychic's place of rest, he spoke evenly: "I suggest you put that away."

Holding the Cult and ready to fire, future Dean responded dangerous: "Where's that little brat of yours anyway?"

"Oh, he's around. So that gun won't do you any good. The fate of the world is sealed. I won," Sam's face broke into a grand, arrogant smile.

The eldest Winchester from 2014's eyes narrowed: "I don't give a rat's ass who won. I'm gonna kill you. Right here… right now…"

Lucifer's brown eyes gazed at the hunter as if he was some naïve child needing some guidance: "We both know that's not going to happen. So turn around, and I'll spare your life. We both know your brother has watched me kill too many loved ones all ready."

"You son of a bitch!" future Dean roared, pulling the trigger, and with a loud bang, the bullet whizzed across the air and struck Sam directly in the heart.

While a sick and twisted grin spread across his future self's face, the Dean Winchester of the present felt as if he were going to be sick. Though his brotherly instinct made him take a few steps forward, he had to stop himself once he saw Sam's wound closing up.

Tutting at future Dean and shaking his head, Lucifer snapped his fingers and broke the hunters neck.

The present eldest Winchester's jaw dropped in horror at the sight of his lifeless corpse crumpled on the ground, and then his eyes met those of his younger brother's.

"Well isn't this a surprise," Sam's voice said pleasantly, while he circled the eldest Winchester in a predatory manner. "You've come quite a long way to see this."

"Go ahead then," Dean growled, trying to appear as brave as possible. "Kill me."

"Kill you?" the Devil chortled. "Wouldn't that be a little redundant?" he motioned to the body on the ground beside them.

Dean didn't respond, nor could he bear to look at his brother's familiar brown eyes whilst Lucifer was inside of him.

Sighing, the God of Hell apologized: "I'm sorry. It must be difficult to talk to me in this form. But it had to be your brother. It was always him."

As Lucifer reached out to sympathetically touch the hunter's shoulder, Dean flinched away.

"There's no need to be frightened, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"I don't know… fry the planet crispy?" the eldest Winchester spat.

"No, no. That is what my son is doing, but once he's done, both of us will rebuild the Earth in all of its glory… as God had originally intended it," the Devil spoke passionately.

"Your son?" Dean couldn't help himself.

"Yes," a small smirk crept across Sam's face. "Dean… have you ever heard why I fell?"

"Save me the bed-time story… my stomach's almost out of bile," the eldest Winchester retorted sarcastically.

"Do you know why God cast me down?" the Devil persisted. "Because I loved Him… more than anything. And then he created you… you hairless, graceless apes. But when he asked us to bow down to you, I told him that I could not… that I would not. I told him that humans were flawed and murderous, and for that honesty, for that _devoted love_, God told Michael… my own _brother_… to cast me down to Hell," Sam's melancholy voice suddenly became more forceful. "But I knew that one day, I would be liberated from my unjust punishment. I knew that I would be able to rectify my Father's mistake… to purge the Earth and make it pure once more. My son and I would finally set things right once again..."

"You know what? I see right through you. So cut this sympathy-for-the-Devil shit. I know what you are," the hunter cut Lucifer off coldly.

"And what am I?"

"You're the same type of cockroach I've been squashin' my whole life… sure maybe a little bigger, but you're still just an ugly, belly-to-the-ground evil son of a bitch. The only different between you and every other evil supernatural piece of crap I've hunted is the size of your ego," Dean said firmly, though his eyes burned with tears he was holding back.

Sam smiled: "I like you. I see what the other angels see in you, but I must go now. Good-bye. We'll meet again soon."

As the Devil turned his back on the shaking eldest Winchester, Dean shouted: "You better kill me now!"

"Pardon?" Lucifer asked, appearing somewhat amused.

"You better kill me now, or I swear I will find a way to kill you! And I won't stop!" a tear escaped his left eye.

"No, Dean. You won't," the Devil said with a cold confidence. "You won't say yes to Michael, and you will never kill your brother. Whatever you do, you will always wind up here… sacrificing your friends only to die on top of Laura's grave… no matter what choices you make, or details you alter… we will _always _end up right here. I win, so… I win," he shrugged.

"You're wrong," Dean shook his head bitterly as a few more tears dripped down his stubbly, dirty cheeks.

"See you in five years, Dean," Sam's voice responded before disappearing as a bolt of lightening lit up the gray sky.

And then the loud, rumbling crack of thunder shook the ground violently, knocking the hunter to the ground.

* * *

Sitting up violently, Dean Winchester found himself in the passenger seat of his '67 Chevy Impala. Blinking away his teary eyes, he looked over to see Sam's concerned gaze resting upon him.

"Did you hit a deer or somethin'? Christ…" he mumbled, stretching his stiff body.

"Pot-hole," the youngest Winchester explained, though he knew from his brother's frantic muttering that it wasn't the large bump that woke him up.

"Remind me not to let you drive," Dean rubbed his eyes as his kid brother rolled his own. "Where are we?"

"Couple hours outside New Orleans," the youngest Winchester replied.

Dean nodded his head as his thoughts traveled back to his nightmare.

As if reading his older brother's troubled mind, Samuel Winchester inquired: "You dreamin' about what Zachariah showed you?" When no response was given, he took his brother's silence as a yes. "I'm not gonna say yes, you know?"

"I know, I know," Dean tried to brush off the conversation.

"Just wanna make sure you remember that," Sam stared ahead as his brother did the same.

After a few minutes of a thick, awkward silence, Dean sighed and turned on the radio. As Black Sabbath's "Children of the Grave" was faintly playing, Sam's phone rang.

"Hello? Hey, Bobby," the youngest Winchester answered. "How are you doing?" he asked tentatively, knowing how hard Mr. Singer was taking his recent handicap. Immediately regretting bringing it up, the surly, wheel-chair bound hunter's yelling could be heard through the phone, causing Dean to began snorting with laughter.

"Rookie move, Sammy," he chuckled, whilst his thoroughly uncomfortable brother shot him a dirty look.

"Okay… I get it. I won't ask anymore… Oh, we're, ugh, not too far," Sam responded. Then, glancing at his brother with an amused look, he continued: "Um… I don't know… lemme ask him."

As Dean gave his kid brother an inquisitive look, the youngest Winchester asked with a small smile: "You gonna quit bein' a jackass and apologize when you see Laura?"

Folding his arms stubbornly, the eldest Winchester looked out the window and responded gruffly: "It's been two months… she should be over it by now."

Shaking his head, Sam sighed: "Nope… bein' as stubborn as ever. Yeah, I'll tell him… okay, I'll let you know when we find her. Bye."

Hanging up the phone, he threw it back onto the Impala's dashboard and said: "You know, Bobby's gonna beat you if you don't make up with her."

"The man's in a wheelchair, Sam… he ain't beatin' anybody up," the eldest Winchester smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

Sam merely gave his older brother a stern look.

"All right, all right," Dean surrendered in exasperation. "I'll tell her I'm sorry."

"And not some half-assed apology, either. Make it a good one," the youngest Winchester pressed his brother some more.

"Sure… whatever," Dean brushed the conversation off, deciding to drown out his annoying baby brother's words.

Cranking up the volume, Ozzy Osbourne's voice filled the car.

"I mean it, man!" Sam glanced at his brother, but as Dean pointed to his ears with a dopey grin, signaling that he couldn't hear what was obviously being said, the youngest Winchester couldn't help but smile.


	36. Chapter 36

**Ummm, so all of the new follows and favorites are amazing, and the reviews... well I can't explain how moved I am by the support. Some of you have been following this story from the beginning, others have taken hours reading each chapter to catch up. Regardless, all of you are the reason why I feel compelled to update as fast as I can, so thank YOU! You all make it some much more fun to keep going with this story. Other than that, I only own my OC and her plot (and the changes I will be making to the season 5 story-arch). Okay, I'm shutting up now!**

**Chapter Thirty-Six:**

He was undeniably attractive in every sense of the word: tall, fit, and boyishly handsome. His engaging crystal blue eyes sparkled as a brilliantly white smile spread across his confident, dimpled face.

"Two more," he called over to the bartender pleasantly, as he fixed his tie. The man had impeccable taste; his business suit was tailored to perfection and his thick, dark brown hair was effortlessly tousled after a long day at the hospital.

As Muddy Water's sensual jazzy tune "Honey Bee" played in the smoky New Orleans bar, the bartender slid over two more glasses of the top-shelf Dalmore Malt Scotch Matheson. With a polite and genuine 'thank you', Dr. Andrew Goodwin gave a toast to the exquisite young woman sitting beside him.

Laughing and shaking his head a bit, the doctor's velvety voice said: "I still can't believe this is your drink of choice."

After taking a small sip of the chilled, extremely expensive alcoholic beverage of straight scotch, the brunette steadily gazed at the man with a flirtatious crooked grin.

"Impressive or intimidating?" her blue-green eyes gleamed in the dim, bronze lighting of the atmospheric Louisiana bar.

Chuckling, Dr. Goodwin replied: "A little of both."

The psychic blushed a bit, and rather than responding, she simply sipped more of the deliciously strong beverage.

"Thank you for coming out with me this evening," the good doctor spoke again.

"Thank you for asking me," she crossed her endlessly long.

"To be honest, it's been a while seen I, ugh, have gone out with a woman," Andrew said a bit sheepishly.

Laura grinned and gave him a playful look: "Is there something you should be telling me?"

Immediately realizing how his previous statement had sounded, Dr. Goodwin laughed and said with a bit of an embarrassed expression: "That came out wrong... I meant I've just been so busy with work, and to be honest… since my divorce, I haven't really wanted to go on a date."

Laura tenderly looked at her flawless male companion and responded empathetically: "I kinda know what you mean."

"You've been divorced?" he cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"No, no," she giggled. "I meant I've just been really busy with work. So this whole dating thing… I'm a bit rusty at it, too."

"Oh come on! Me, it's understandable… 33 year old divorcee surgeon, but you? You can't tell me that you're just as bad in the dating department as I am," he smirked, causing his adorable dimples to reveal themselves once more.

Laura tucked a piece of her long, curled behind her ear and sighed: "I guess so."

"I refuse to believe that. Look at you! A young, successful, FBI agent like you _has _to have plenty of admirers," his enticing blue eyes looked her hard in the face.

"Nope. No admirers," she shrugged, taking a drink from the glass as the doctor did the same.

"Well, then I must be the luckiest guy in New Orleans for landing a date with you," Andrew's words and expression indicated that he was being completely genuine.

Blushing yet again, Laura shook her head: "I wouldn't go that far."

"No, I mean it!" he said enthusiastically. "You're interesting and funny and intelligent, and if I might add beautiful, and I gotta ask, what's the catch?"

Thinking, the psychic leaned in closer to Andrew and whispered: "Between you and me? I've got a lot of issues."

"Seen a lot investigating mysterious animal attacks, have you?" Andrew grinned.

"Hey, Yogi Bear can hold a serious grudge," she breathed teasingly as both of their faces were mere inches from one another.

The alcohol was hitting each of them, and the sultry sounds of New Orleans' classic jazz tunes created a sensual atmosphere of desire. Laura liked him. He was smart, handsome, and a complete gentleman; not to mention, Andrew Goodwin was the exact _opposite_ of a hunter. And with one last intense look, their lips met.

* * *

The Winchesters sat in the black Chevy Impala, waiting for the psychic to make her appearance at the hotel's main entrance. The concierge had told them that Agent Nicks had stepped out for a couple of drinks with a Dr. Goodwin. Now, being several hours later, and reaching almost 3 a.m., both hunters were growing quite restless.

"Dude, I vote we raid every bar in this city, throw her in the car, and haul ass back to Bobby's," Dean moaned, whilst his brother skimmed the local papers on his laptop.

Smirking, Sam shook his head: "There's a hunt here man. She's not gonna leave unless it's solved."

"Well what the Hell is she doing then?" the eldest Winchester demanded in exasperation. "If she's all about the job, why's she out all night with some Dr. Sexy?"

Clearly confused by his brother's pop-culture reference, Sam asked: "Dr. Sexy?"

Waving off his kid brother in frustration, Dean growled: "Nevermind."

Then, they saw a couple walking through the shadowy lot. Immediately perking up, each brother strained their eyes into the darkness, but once the man and woman were illuminated by the lights of the hotel, the Winchesters knew that it was, in fact, Laura and her apparent date.

The brunette looked amazing, even from far away. Her long-sleeved, mardis gras purple shift dress was just short enough to show off her long, toned legs without being too promiscuous, and her long, curly dark brown hair bounced as she walked arm-in-arm with the doctor.

Entering the hotel, they caught a glimpse of her brilliant smile, as she laughed at something the undeniably charming man must have said.

Turning the car off, Dean stormily exited the vehicle as Sam did the same with a worried expression.

"Will you calm down? You're here to apologize to her, remember?" the youngest Winchester spoke cautiously as they reached the sliding doors of the swanky hotel.

"Agent Nicks' room," Dean demanded rudely from the front desk, while a nervous Sam tried to smile away the receptionist's clearly offended expression.

"Is she expecting you?" the middle-aged heavy-set redhead asked, giving just as much of an attitude back.

Gruffly pulling out his badge, the eldest Winchester spoke: "We're associates of hers."

The woman glanced at his identification lazily, and then look up at Sam expectantly. Jumping a bit, the youngest Winchester showed her his badge, as well.

Pursing her lips, the receptionist stated with a tone of annoyance: "Room 432."

Walking away, Dean strode up to the elevator and practically punched the 'up' button.

"Can you relax?" Sam hissed at his irrational older brother.

"I _am_ relaxed," Dean said heatedly, as they entered the elevator.

Pressing number four, the youngest Winchester shook his head with a deep sigh. This was going to be interesting.

"She always tries to act all professional, but when we're not around she goes off to the bars and picks up some random dude like she's…" the fuming hunter vented, but his baby brother cut him off.

"You?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Thoroughly annoyed that Sam wasn't sharing his anger, Dean brushed him off: "That's… that's different and you know it."

The doors opened as both hunters entered the ornate hallway and turned left: "Dude… she's what? 22? 23? She's allowed to have fun."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Dean retorted sourly.

Sam was about to speak when they rounded the corner and saw Laura, pressed up against her hotel door, being passionately kissed by the good-looking older man.

Dean's breath hitched a bit, as his brother tried to pull him back from barreling down the hallway, but the eldest Winchester merely continued on his path of fury.

"Agent Nicks," he barked, thoroughly startling the couple.

Pulling away, the tall blue-eyed doctor turned to look at the two men walking towards them. Glancing over at Laura, he then saw an intensely irritated expression plastered on her delicate face.

"Can I help you two?" Andrew asked pleasantly and innocently.

"Back off, Doogie Howser," the eldest Winchester shot snottily as the thoroughly confused and now offended doctor now glared at him.

"I'm sorry, Andrew," Laura said with a tone and expression of extreme embarrassment. "These are my _delightful_ associates."

Looking between the two men briefly, Dr. Goodwin then turned to face the flustered and peeved brunette: "It's fine, I understand," he nodded calmly. "Clearly something… urgent has happened if they're bothering you at this hour. So, I'll let you get to," he flashed a confident, dimpled smile before planting one last, deep kiss on her plump lips.

"I had a really nice time," Laura said with a low voice and apologetic look.

"So did I," his pleasant blue eyes gleamed. Then, turning around, he nodded coolly at the two men standing before him: "Good-night, fellas."

And with that, the good doctor walked down the hallway, leaving all three hunters to stare after him.

Once he rounded the corner, however, Laura irately unlocked her hotel room's door and stormed inside, slamming her silver clutch on the table in the foyer.

Following her inside was a very anxious Sam and just as livid Dean.

"You've got some nerve!" her voice shook with the rage she was trying to stifle.

"Me? You run off for two months with no word, no call, nothin'! Then when we finally hear your alive, we track you down, we find you tryin' to get laid," the eldest Winchester shot back with an extremely judgmental tone.

"Oh, please! Like you give a damn!" she growled, kicking off her heals. "Let me guess… Bobby told you to come find me and say sorry…"

Still fuming, Dean didn't respond, for he suddenly remembered why they had come to New Orleans.

Glancing between each brother, Laura's gaze landed on the youngest Winchester, who could barely look her in the face. Laughing a bit and shaking her head, she spoke indignantly: "I knew it."

Walking to her room, she slammed the door shut, leaving both brothers standing in an uncomfortable silence. Growing more and more tired of his brother's harshness towards the young woman, Sam pushed past Dean and knocked on the psychic's bedroom door.

"Laura? It's me," he said in a low voice, as his irritated brother plopped down on the couch.

When there was no response, the youngest Winchester tentatively opened the door and stepped inside.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked slowly.

Sitting on the side of her bed with her eyes closed, he could tell she was either trying not to flip out or to keep from crying. As he sat beside her, the youngest Winchester contemplated how best to start the conversation.

"You look really nice," he decided a kind word was the best route.

Laughing, she opened her eyes and responded half-heartedly: "Thanks."

"I mean it. And that doctor guy… he seemed nice," the youngest Winchester admitted. Dr. Goodwin, did indeed, seem like a kind person… especially after how he handled Dean's unnecessary attitude.

"He is nice," the brunette played the rings on her slender fingers. Then, after a bit of a pause, she asked: "Is it _that_ wrong for me to go out and _try_ to enjoy myself? To try to forget all the shit going on?"

Gazing at the now obviously drunk young woman with a sympathetic expression, Sam responded: "No. It's not."

"I deserve to be told nice things, don't I? I deserve to be treated well…" her blue-green eyes were swimming as intoxicated tears began to form.

"Laura… I'm sorry," the youngest Winchester didn't know what to say to the clearly hurt and upset psychic.

"Why are you sorry?" she wiped a tear that fell from her right eye, "You didn't do anything."

Pausing, he wasn't sure if he should bring it up, but did so anyway: "Dean's a pain in the ass, and I know how hard he is on you… but he does care… in his own way."

"How can you defend him?" she shook her head and looked up at the hunter. "How can you make excuses for what he said to me? Or how he's treated me?"

"I'm not… but I know he's sorry," the youngest Winchester said in a low voice. "And he told me what you said to him… about givin' me another chance."

"So?" she asked darkly.

"So give him the same the chance. Be the bigger person."

"Why should I?" she hissed, her melancholy expression was replaced with one of anger.

"Because this fight isn't about you and Dean… or even me and Bobby… the Devil's out and walkin' around, and we need to stop him… and the only chance we got is if you're with us," Sam explained, looking down at her seriously. "You were right when you said we were in this together… we need you."

Looking up at his doe-like brown eyes, Laura sighed: "You're right… but your brother still owes me an epic apology."

"I know," Sam agreed.

After a brief silence, Laura then changed the subject: "You guys aren't gonna be leavin' tonight, are you?"

"Not unless you're comin' back to Bobby's with us," Sam grinned.

"There's a serious job here. I'm not leaving," she shook her head.

Smiling even wider, the youngest Winchester chuckled a bit: "Then I guess we're staying."

* * *

Dean Winchester was sitting in a living room chair, arms folded and legs propped up on the mahogany coffee table, fast asleep, whilst his brother was passed out on the couch. Both hunters appeared so peaceful in the bright morning sunlight.

Holding three cups of coffee, the brunette set them on the table and proceeded to kick Dean's legs down with as much force as she could muster.

Jerking awake, the hunter rubbed his eyes sleepily and asked, thoroughly annoyed: "What the Hell?"

"Sorry," Laura apologized with a wide, fake smile.

As the eldest Winchester glared at the psychic, she woke up his kid brother.

"Sam," she whispered, gently rubbing his arm. "Sam, wake up."

"Sure, take it easy on him," Dean grumbled, rolling his stiff neck. "What time is it anyway?"

"Six," she responded simply, nudging the now stirring Winchester some more.

"Six? In the morning?" Dean moaned incredulously. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Nope, and since you two refuse to leave alone, neither will you," she stated firmly. "Get up, Sam!"

The taller hunter groaned and stretched a bit before opening his exhausted, heavy eyes.

"What? What's going on?" the slightly delusion youngest Winchester moaned.

"Get up, drink some coffee," Laura commanded lazily, sipping her own latte.

"Why are you sweating?" Dean finally noticed that the somewhat breathless brunette was wearing shorts, sneakers, and a tank-top.

"I went for a run," Laura responded as if his question was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

"Why?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"Maybe some of us value fitness," she retorted, giving him a disapproving glance, as if he should do the same.

"Did you even sleep at all?" Sam asked, sitting up and scratching his head.

"Yeah," she nodded, grabbing her MacBook from the desk in the corner of the room.

"For what? Two hours?" Sam inquired in amazement.

"Only needed the one," the brunette responded nonchalantly as she opened her laptop and sipped her coffee.

"Well that explains why you're always so cranky," Dean mumbled, grabbing his own steaming cup of morning goodness.

Shooting him a dangerous look, the psychic decided to ignore his statement: "Besides, there's no time for sleep. We got a boggle to hunt."

"A boggle?" the youngest Winchester yawned a bit.

"Mhm. It's also known as a boggart in some places," she brushed a loose piece of hair from her face.

"Like in Harry Potter?" the eldest Winchester asked, earning himself odd looks from both his companions. "What?"

Rolling her eyes, the psychic continued: "It's a type shape shifting spirit…"

When she noticed the blank expression on each of the Winchester's faces, the brunette impatiently explained some more: "It only takes a physical form when it wants to be seen… which means we can't kill it until it wants to be seen…"

"Great, well how do get it to come out and play?" the eldest Winchester inquired.

"We gotta get it hungry," she smirked wickedly.

"That sounds safe," Dean muttered to himself.

"What does it eat?" Sam asked, although he had an idea what the psychic was going to say.

"Terrified people," she replied, typing away on the computer.

"Well that narrows it down… does it like a certain flavor in human snack packs?" the eldest Winchester asked with raised eyebrows, clearly thinking the brunette did not do her homework on the case.

"Terrified people," she repeated herself, finally finding the webpage she was looking for.

"Come again?"

The thoroughly annoyed brunette turned the screen to face both hunters and tried to remain patient: "It reads it's victims minds, becomes their biggest fear, and then chows down on the poor bastards."

As both Winchesters leaned forward to read the page she pulled up, Laura spoke some more: "It's where the modern-day boogieman legend came from."

"How'd you connect these deaths with a boggle, though?" Sam inquired with furrowed brows.

Picking up a file on the desk, she handed it to him: "Cause of these…"

Opening the folder, both boys' eyes widened at the autopsy pictures.

"Each victim had extremely high levels of Epinephrine in their bloodstream when they died," the brunette watched as they flipped through the paperwork.

As Dean and Sam grimaced at the images, Sam said: "So how does high Adrenaline levels and peoples' skulls being ripped open make you so certain it's a boggle? A number of monsters like brains."

"Cause in every victim… the only part of the brain that was eaten was the Hypothalamus," Laura began to untie her sneakers.

"That's the part that makes you decide to run or fight, right?" Dean asked, as the brunette and his brother looked over at him with highly surprised expressions. "What? I know a thing or two."

"Yeah, well on top it only dining on that part of the brain, I spoke to a few families members of the deceased," she slipped her shoes off, stood up, and pulled her hair out of the low pony-tail it was previously in.

"Yeah? And?" the eldest Winchester inquired with a tone of boredom.

Eyeing him closely, Sam closed the folder and shook his head. Dean could be such a jackass.

"And each person had complained about being constantly scared… said that they were being stalked," Laura finished her coffee and threw the empty container into the trash.

"So it picks you out, figures out what gets you freaked, and gradually makes you crazy with fear…" Sam mused out loud.

"And then it nabs you, cracks your skull open, and slurps down a nice, Adrenaline-marinated Hypothalamus," the eldest Winchester finished off his brothers thoughts.

At that point, the psychic had disappeared in her bedroom, and reemerged in just a pink towel, causing Sam to avert his eyes bashfully while his older brother's examined each inch of her.

"And I got a hunch where we can find thing," Laura ignored their reactions as she walked across the room.

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" Sam asked.

"I gotta shower, and then I got one last person to chat with," the brunette stated, opening the bathroom door.

"Don't you mean _we_?" Dean asked, clearly trying to get under her skin.

"Sure," she paused. "As long as you follow my lead and don't screw anything up," she glanced at Sam with a wicked smirk, knowing that her words would surly piss his brother off.

Dean's mouth opened in an attempt to defend himself, but Laura cut in dangerously: "Quit while you're ahead, Dean-o." And with that, she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.


	37. Chapter 37

**The amount of support for this story is blowing my mind. The comments/reviews... I can't even! You guys are making me so excited and proud to keep on crafting this story for all of you, and I am moved to hear how much many of you are connecting to my OC! I am also super excited to hear that I am portraying the main characters and the flawless Supernatural universe in a realistic way that's true to the show, cause that's always my main concern! Also, some of you have been wondering about where this is going as opposed to the Season 5 plot... since Laura is now in it, and her fate will be intertwined with the Winchester, certain episodes and plot details will be altered or replaced altogether, so the outcome of Season 5 may end up completely different from the show. Lastly, this chapter has some cutesy Sam-Dean bondings and a big conversation that many of you have been DYING to happen! SOOOO READ ON! (I gotta learn to shut up on these things!)**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven:**

"Any luck with the bamboo?" Dean exited a small apartment and onto the bustling New Orleans' sidewalk.

"Ugh, yeah," Sam smiled awkwardly at the extremely eccentric shop keeper as he turned to leave the shop. "Why do we need this again?" the youngest Winchester examined the three, one-foot stalks.

"Apparently the only way to kill this thing is with nature's luck, and Jean Grey seems to think bamboo's answer," Dean looked both ways before crossing the busy street.

"Um… right…" Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he now made his way past the voodoo, hoodoo, and other local mystic shops. "Where is Laura, by the way?"

"Went to the hospital. Probably went to find lover boy," Dean mumbled as he continued down the sunlit street. "How far are you from the Impala?"

"Couple blocks," Sam answered, passing a street brass band playing.

"What?"

"I said a couple of blocks!" the youngest Winchester repeated himself, but as he made his way through the crowd of onlookers listening to the delightful jazzy tunes, he stopped. _What the Hell was that?_

"Sam? Hello?" Dean's irritated his voice brought him back to reality.

"Ugh, what?" the unnerved hunter was still staring at something across the street.

"I said I'd wait for you in the car… what's wrong?"

"I thought I saw… you know what? Nevermind… I'll be right there," Sam shook it off and picked up his pace, uneasily taking one last look behind him.

By the time he made it back the familiar '67 Chevy, Sam's older brother was drumming the steering wheel. Opening the door, the blaring sound of Guns N' Roses' "Sweet Child O' Mine" was emitted from the car.

"Havin' fun?" Sam asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Gotta pass the time somehow," Dean lowered the radio and yanked the bamboo from his brother's hand to inspect it.

"The Hell are we gonna do with these? Smack the damned thing with 'em?" the eldest Winchester swung them around playfully.

"Who knows… what did you find out from the victim's girlfriend?" Sam snatched them back.

"Just that he was in the one-mile radius of that old Creole market," Dean turned on the car and pulled away from the curb.

Sam shifted uncomfortably: "So Laura's hunch was right… that's its stomping grounds."

"Yeah… man am I tired of that chick bein' right," the eldest Winchester pouted a bit, but then he perked up. "Wait… wasn't that shop you went to right in that area?"

Looking away, Sam scratched the back of his neck: "Ugh, yeah."

"You saw it, didn't you?" Dean could tell by his brother's expression that his intimation was correct. "What did it look like?"

Becoming embarrassed Sam retorted: "Well don't be so worried about me bein' the next target!"

"Don't be a baby… what was it?" the eldest Winchester was clearly enjoying himself as he turned down the next block. "Come on, I promise I won't laugh…"

Sam then mumbled an inaudible response, so Dean asked: "Sorry… couldn't hear you…"

"A midget clown," he looked down at the bamboo shoots in his hands.

Dean immediately erupted into a fit of hysterical laughter.

"Dude! You said you wouldn't laugh!" Sam scolded his insensitive older brother.

Between gasps of air, the eldest Winchester finally got out: "I'm… I'm sorry, Sammy… It's just… too… perfect," he continued to cackle with laughter as a couple tears escaped his eyes.

"Whatever, laugh it up," Sam folded his arms, thoroughly aggravated.

"Okay, okay," Dean tried to compose himself, though it was apparent he was finding this task extremely challenging. "I'm good now… I'm good."

Then after a few minutes of silence, the eldest Winchester burst out into a second fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Shaking his head, Sam grumbled: "It's really not that funny," though Dean could not hear it over his loud snorting.

* * *

The Winchesters finally arrived back at the hotel and found a highly pensive Laura staring out the sunlit window and playing with her amulet absentmindedly.

Turning to look at them, the brunette said: "Took you guys long enough."

Throwing the bamboo shoots onto the desk, Sam responded: "Sorry. Hit some traffic."

"Yeah… figured you'd be spending some _quality_ time with the doc," Dean mocked the brunette, "so we didn't think we'd have to rush."

Laura glared at Dean, but bit her cheek while Sam shook his head at his persistently rude brother. The eldest Winchester's cocky smirk soon disappeared, though, when the psychic aggressively yanked out her large hunting knife and slammed it down onto the first bamboo shoot, slicing the tip clean off.

Still glowering at Dean with an expression as if she wished his face were that plant, the brunette then picked up the stalk and examined it: cut in such a diagonal way, the bamboo shoot now resembled a stake.

Chucking it at the somewhat nervous older Winchester silently, she then crashed the blade down onto the second plant.

Glancing at the stake in his hand and then back up at his kid brother, Dean flashed an uneasy smile, though Sam did not return it. Sighing a bit, he then got the hint and sat down on the couch.

"So you were right about where this boggle's hunting," Sam attempted to dissipate the tension in the room.

"Yeah, but we still don't know where it actually takes its victims," she muttered, staring out the window again.

"We have time to figure it out," the youngest Winchester tried to ease her clearly anxious mind.

"Not really," Dean called over, as Sam shot him a look to shut up, which the eldest Winchester obviously ignored: "Sam saw it. He's next."

Looking over at both of them, Laura's response was not what they would have expected: "Really?" she sounded a bit excited and relieved.

Slightly offended, Sam stated: "Don't get so broken up about it."

"No, no, don't get me wrong... that sucks, but now we can figure out where it feeds," the psychic said eagerly.

"Whoa, we're not using Sam as bait," Dean defensively snapped.

"I'm not a fan of it either. I know it's risky, but if it were me who was next, I'd volunteer myself… and if it were you, well that would just be ideal…" she shot back snarkily.

The eldest Winchester was about to bitterly give his retort, but Sam silenced him: "I agree with Laura. It's the only way we can take this thing out as fast as possible."

Shaking his head, Dean was about to argue, but decided against it and shut his mouth.

"Perfect! Sounds like a plan," the brunette beamed. "We'll move out around nightfall."

And with that, Laura rose from her chair and headed towards the door.

"And where are you going?" Dean inquired nosily.

"Out," she stonily responded, closing the door behind her.

Glancing at his still angry brother, Sam spoke: "Something's wrong."

"You're tellin' me… how is she _still _this pissed…" the eldest Winchester muttered.

"Maybe cause you're _still_ being an ass?" Sam ventured before continuing: "But what I meant is, she's not tellin' us something."

"What makes you say that?" a still slightly insulted Dean asked, folding his muscular arms.

"She's just been distant… more quiet," Sam stated honestly. "I could see it in her face… she's worried about something."

"So why don't you go ask her since you two are all buddy-buddy now," the eldest Winchester suggested with a slight tone of jealously.

"Seriously?" Sam asked in amusement.

"What?" Dean inquired innocently.

"You're gonna start attacking _me_ now?"

"I'm not attacking anybody!" Dean cried in exasperation.

Laughing incredulously, the youngest Winchester stated: "Man, you've been picking fights with her since we got here."

"Maybe she's just annoying me," Dean scoffed.

"And what did that doctor guy do to you?" Sam pressed, furthering his point.

Shifting in his seat, the eldest Winchester was a bit flustered: "He was… well… what do you think his intentions were for her anyway? What's some fancy doctor doin' tryin' to impress Laura?"

"Maybe he liked her… I mean she's smart and kind, really funny, and obviously she's attractive…" Sam listed thoughtfully.

"Well why don't _you_ take her out then?" Dean grumbled, "If she can even fit you in her busy dating schedule…"

As the youngest Winchester burst out laughing, Dean continued to shake his head in irritation: "I'm bein' serious, Sam!"

"Dude, you are so jealous!" Sam chuckled.

"Jealous? Why the Hell would I be jealous? She's nothin' but a headache!" the eldest Winchester was growing increasingly more uncomfortable.

"You really like her, don't you?" the younger hunter looked at his brother seriously.

Stumbling over his words a bit, Dean denied: "Me? Like Laura? That's… that's ridiculous…"

"Mhm…" Sam was still convinced otherwise.

Rattled, Dean rose from his seat: "I don't! She's just some kid I gotta babysit. That's it."

The eldest Winchester then walked towards to door, so Sam asked where he was going.

"I need a drink," he sighed, closing the door abruptly behind him, ignoring his kid brother's sniggers.

* * *

"Should've known I'd find you down here," the eldest Winchester's voice broke Laura's deep thoughts.

Groaning, the brunette set her glass of whiskey down and turned to vacate the hotel's small bar.

"Whoa, I'm not here to be a dick," Dean said in surrender.

The brunette looked the hunter hard in the face, contemplating whether or not to believe his words, but once he muttered a sheepish

'I promise,' Laura sighed and sat back down.

"Two bourbons," Dean told the bartender, as he glanced awkwardly at the cold psychic.

"I'm fine with what I got," she muttered, staring into her almost empty glass.

"I know when a woman could use a drink, and you seriously need another," he grinned a bit, but when Laura barely even looked his way, his handsome face fell.

The bartender then passed them each a drink as the eldest Winchester paid. Taking a huge gulp, Dean observed the brunette from the corner of his eyes, and after a few minutes of thick, uncomfortable silence, he cleared his throat and said: "So you gonna tell me what's goin' on with you?"

"You gonna apologize?" her harsh blue-green eyes pierced into him.

Inhaling deeply, the eldest Winchester blurted out: "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry for _what_?" she pushed him so more, for she was not going to let him off the hook that easily.

"Are you really gonna make me list _all_ the stupid shit I've done?" he practically whined.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Laura pushed her glass back over to him and rose from her stool to leave, but Dean quickly grabbed her wrist beseechingly: "Okay, okay! I'm sorry for being an ass to you… like all the time… you didn't deserve it."

"No. I didn't deserve it," she folded her arms and remained standing, waiting for him to delve deeper into his miserable excuse for an apology.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Laur," he seemed to be at a complete loss for words. "I know I get pissed and say dumb crap, but I don't mean any of it."

"So you think it's okay to just take it all out on me? Like I'm some sort of punching bag?" her voice shook with anger.

"No, I'm not sayin' that… I… I don't know," he looked down at his glass of alcohol.

"Well that's not good enough," the brunette turned to leave again, and this time Dean stood up and blocked her path.

"Listen, I just went on a trip to the twilight zone with Zachariah and he showed me some things that really got me thinkin'," his voice was urgent enough to make the psychic willing to at least hear him out.

Cocking her head to the side with an expression as if saying 'so what,' Laura waited for the eldest Winchester to continue.

"He showed me what's gonna happen if I said no to Michael, and it's not good," Dean looked down at her, his thoughts turning to Lucifer in Sam's body and his own dead corpse on top the young woman's grave.

At this point, Laura was struggling to not appear remotely interested or concerned about what the man before her was saying, but she could see the intense pain and fear behind his usually strong green eyes, and it made her worried to say the least.

"I still don't see what this has to do with me…"

"It has everything to do with you! Okay, I met me five years from now, and let me tell you… I didn't like him," Dean continued.

"As opposed to you now?" she cocked an irritated eyebrow, but the eldest Winchester simply ignored her comment.

"He was cold and had no humanity left. Sacrificed Castiel and Chuck and a bunch of other people to get a shot at the Devil… to get a shot at Sam…" Dean's voice wavered a bit at the last part, causing the psychic's stony expression to melt into one of shock.

"Sam's Lucifer's vessel…" she could barely utter the words.

Dean's heartbroken faced nodded slowly.

"Dean… I'm… I'm sorry," she plopped down on the stool, as if the weight of the news was too heavy to bear.

"Yeah, well… apparently future me could care less about killin' Sammy along with the Devil… whatever I'm gonna see… whatever happens, its gonna ruin me," the eldest Winchester sat down as well and looked morosely into his glass. "And I think it has something to do with how you die…"

Dean heard Laura inhale sharply, and he could not bring himself to look up at her.

"Do… do you know how?" she practically whispered with a blank expression.

The hunter solemnly shook his head and said: "Only thing I know is that I couldn't save you… that there was something I could've done to keep you alive and I failed…"

Laura's mind traveled back to her conversation with the Devil, and how he had said he had plans for her. If that were true, then why was she going to wind-up a doornail in five years?

"Future me was Hell bent on getting revenge on Lucifer for what happened to you… he didn't even care that icing the Devil wouldn't stop the apocalypse…"

"What do you mean?" Laura snapped out of her train of thought.

Dean's saddened green eyes gazed into hers: "Pretty sure the Anti-Christ is the one who's running demolition duty once it all starts…"

Laura's stomach then lurched as she suddenly began to feel quite ill.

"The Anti-Christ…" she repeated slowly.

"Apparently…" he sipped his drink. "But what I'm trying to say is… seein' all that put things into perspective… after that I drove across the country to get to Sammy, and then we spent the last couple weeks tryin' to track you down…" Dean now ran his fingers along the rim of the glass. "I saw what happens when we all split up… when I push you and Sam away, and it ain't good."

Laura's mind was racing with all of the information the eldest Winchester had just thrown her way, but when he finally looked at her directly in the eyes, her thoughts went blank.

"I was an prick… a serious, serious prick. I took everything out on you cause I was scared of losin' people and letting everyone down. I know it's not an excuse, and I know I messed up big time, but for what it's worth, I never wanted to hurt you," the sincerity behind his voice was so intense that Laura did not quite know how to respond.

The puppy-dog look that the man was giving her was not something the brunette was used to. Dean Winchester, the smart-ass, stubborn, emotionless hunter, was gazing at her with the most pitifully imploring look for both affection and forgiveness. He had given her what she had wanted, an apology for the books, but for the life of her, Laura could not provide the tenderness the man was desperately searching for.

"Thank you for the apology," the psychic spoke softly, and although her heart ached for the eldest Winchester, she was not fully ready shake the hurt he had caused her.

Standing up, she walked away, leaving a very vulnerable and very guilt-ridden Dean Winchester alone with his thoughts.


	38. Chapter 38

**Soooo happy to hear that you guys enjoyed my last chapter! Keep the reviews coming, and those of you who haven't given feedback yet, but follow the story, please comment! I wanna see how I can make this even better for you to read! Okay, read away! Oh, and I have to sadly remind you all I only own my OC and NOT THE AMAZING UNIVERSE THAT IS SUPERNATURAL! :P**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight:**

"Anything yet?" Laura asked, pretending to window shop while she looked around cautiously.

"Nope. He's still sitting inside, ignoring the very forward, very hot bartender," Dean admired from his position on the sidewalk by a homeless yet talented guitar player.

"Maybe the midget clown made him lose his libido," the brunette smirked, still finding it hard to believe that that was the great Samuel Winchester's biggest fear.

The eldest Winchester laughed through the phone and responded somewhat jokingly: "I don't know if he ever had one."

Listening to the brunette giggling, Dean grinned to himself and threw a couple of bucks into the musician's empty guitar case.

"How's it lookin' by you?" he asked, still staring steadily at his brother through the dimly lit window.

"Boring. I thought it would be around the old warehouse, but I haven't seen any movement," she sighed, glancing across the street at the timeworn, decrepit building, still clearly damaged from Katrina. All she wanted to do was go inside and check the place out, but both Winchesters made her swear to wait for them.

"Don't even think about it," the eldest Winchester said, as if reading her mind.

"But this is the only place that seems boggle-friendly…" she argued.

"Nope. We're stickin' to the plan. You keep an eye on the place and I'll watch Sammy. Chances are he'll be brought over to you anyway, but don't go chargin' in there alone," Dean's voice was stern.

Inhaling deeply, Laura shook her head a bit in exasperation: "You're bossy, you know that?"

"At least I'm adorable," she could hear him smiling.

"All right, well lemme know if anything happens," the psychic stated, turning back to the hoodoo shop window.

"You too," Dean said as he hung up the phone.

Looking back across the bustling street, the eldest Winchester made eye contact with his thoroughly unnerved kid brother. Sam was uneasily playing with his beer bottle, eyes darting around frantically.

Although he was sort of uncomfortable with his little brother being the bait in this plan, Dean couldn't help but chuckle. Classic Sammy: scared shitless over a dwarf in a clown costume.

Shrugging his shoulders, the jumpy Sam silently told his older brother that nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"You sure you don't want another one?" the smart blonde bartender asked with a sultry smile.

Grinning politely, Sam shook his head: "No, but thank you, though."

"Really? You seem like you could use another one…" the bombshell observed his jumpy disposition.

Chuckling a bit, the youngest Winchester realized he must have looked rather silly with his suspicious looks around the empty bar, as if someone were out to get him: "Okay, yeah sure… maybe one more."

With her eyes twinkling, she smirked and tucked a piece of her long, pin-straight hair behind her ear and bent down to grab another bottle from the fridge.

Glancing out the window, Sam saw Dean giving him two approving thumbs up. Shaking his head with a small smirk, Sam took the beer once the young woman had opened the bottle and poured it into a glass. Taking one for herself, she leaned over provocatively and cheersed him.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking a sip of the bubbly alcohol whilst the bartender did the same.

"So what brings you to town?" she asked, steadily gazing at the tall, handsome hunter drinking some more of his beer.

"Just sight-seeing," he lied convincingly, taking a few more gulps of the chilled, frothy liquid.

The smoking hot blonde nodded slowly, still watching him intently before quickly glancing out the bar's window.

"With family or something?" her smooth voice asked.

"Nope. Just me," he shook his now oddly droopy head.

"You sure about that, Sam?" she asked, her once kind and flirtatious expression had transformed into a harsh, predatory scowl.

With his head snapping up, the blurry sight of the maliciously smirking blonde bartender alarmed him.

"What?" he mumbled, looking towards the window, but his vision was growing more and more dim.

"I made you three hunters out the second you hit this city," her voice was becoming progressively deeper and raspier. "And you wanna know the best part about your kind? You have so much to be afraid of…"

As the threatening words left her lips, the woman's attractive face and body morphed into the form of a menacing clown with a wicked sneer, fanged teeth, and black, beady eyes.

Sam Winchester's eyes widened as he yanked out his stake with as much force as he could muster, but the apparently spiked drink was hitting him hard. Lunging across the bar, the hunter missed his target completely.

Now only a squat four foot five inches, the chilling creature knocked the weapon from Sam's hand and in one swift motion, bashed his all-ready woozy head against the thick, wooden counter top, knocking him out.

* * *

His head was pounding and extremely heavy, no doubt from the sedatives the boggle had slipped into his beer. Opening his droopy eyes, Sam looked around the dimly lit room, and after a few moments, his brownish-hazel eyes had finally adjusted to the lack of light.

He was, indeed, inside the warehouse. The bare, cracked concrete walls were covered in mold from past water damage, and the reinforced windows were smeared with a thick layer of mud, dust, and grime. Trying to move, he soon looked down and found himself tied to a cold, metal support beam, with both of his chiseled arms outstretched and fastened to a cross-beam. There was no way for him to reach the knife he had stashed in his pants' pocket.

Sighing, Sam then looked helplessly around some more, and then he heard the familiar wheezing voice.

"Are you scared?" the practically demonic clown chuckled as it emerged from the shadows.

Though shaking and terrified, Sam knew this was no time to let fear cloud his judgment and paralyze him.

"Don't worry," it practically cooed. "I'm not going to do anything to you… yet."

"My brother will be here any minute," Sam growled struggling against the ropes.

"I'm planning on it," the creature smiled viciously. "As I said, nothing beats dining on hunters… so broken and full of fear… it tastes so rich," the boggle spoke dreamily.

"Trust me when I say this… we're not the type of hunters that scare easily," he retorted dangerously.

"I'm not too sure about that. Your brother? I could take the form of Lilith, or Alastair… maybe even the demonic Dean from his nightmares…" the monster mused, enjoying himself.

"It won't work," the youngest Winchester grinned back haughtily.

"Perhaps… but I can shape-shift into anything I want… even you… as a blood-sucking monster or Lucifer's vessel," its malevolent gaze was now dead serious.

Sam's eyes widened a bit as he angrily tried to attack the beast, but the restraints were too strong.

Cackling at his victim's intense reaction to those words, the boggle then stated: "Now that's fear!"

* * *

"How did you lose him?" Laura scolded the worried eldest Winchester as they made their way as quietly as possible around the back of the warehouse.

"I looked away for a split second," Dean hissed. "Figures Sam would be flirting with the bad-guy."

"Oh like you wouldn't have done the same," Laura retorted as they looked for the best way to enter the building without alerting the boggle. "I mean she was just _so hot,_ remember?"

Dean made a face as he spotted a smashed window a floor up, a rickety fire escape adjacent to it, and a broken generator not too far below. Nodding over to it, the eldest Winchester whispered back: "Don't be getting all jealous…"

"Jealous?" the psychic breathed incredulously as they reached the industrial-sized generator. "That's rich."

Dean shrugged and responded: "If the shoe fits…"

Looking at how massive the object in front of her was, Laura then turned back to the cocky hunter with an aggravated expression: "Would you just shut up and give me a boost…"

Obeying, Dean cupped his hands, allowing her left brown leather riding boot to step up. Hoisting the slender young woman up, he let out a little grunt.

Struggling to reach the top of the generator, Laura fumbled to get a good enough grip to pull herself up.

"Can you hurry up," Dean groaned as the young woman was now fully standing on his shaking forearms.

"Lift me a little higher, I'm almost there," she stretched her arms as far as she could.

"Oh, sure, whatever you say your highness," the eldest Winchester grumbled, pushing her up as much as possible.

From the sudden upward force, Laura's body teetered a bit as she reached for the metal rod at the top of the generator. Finally making contact, she gripped the rusted pole as tightly as she could and began to pull herself up.

As she struggled and grunted, the brunette then felt a large, firm hand on her bottom, guiding her body upwards ever so slightly.

"Dean…" she paused, "Get your hand off my ass."

"Just tryin' to help," the eldest Winchester retracted his hand in disappointment, while still checking out the psychic's tight, perky rear-end as it disappeared on top of the piece of machinery.

Dusting herself off, Laura stood up and then took a deep breath. Leaping about five feet forward, the brunette grabbed onto the chipped, iron bars of the fire escape.

"You okay?" Dean called up, nervously standing below her dangling body in case she fell.

"Yeah," she panted, finally climbing over the railing. As she slid open part of the floor, the brunette then pushed the ladder down, allowing her companion to climb up.

Less fatigued, Dean took the lead as he poked his head into the open window-frame. Glancing back at the psychic, he nodded his head that it was clear, and the two of them disappeared into the unknown darkness.

Dean and Laura inched their way around the musty and moldy smelling building, and once they were able to see in the poor lighting, they made out a fairly large hole in the floor. Inching forward, they peered down, only to see Samuel Winchester tied up on the floor below them. Looking around, each of them tried to find the fastest way down, but there was none to be found.

Then, the youngest Winchester let out a small moan of pain, and shifted his limp head just enough for the two hunters to see that he had been beaten something awful.

Dean's wide eyes darted around and landed on a support beam just a couple of feet below. Glancing at Laura, the protective big brother commanded in a low voice: "I'm goin' this way… you find another way down."

"Dean…" Laura tried to debate the hunter, for she did not feel quite comfortable with splitting up right then and there.

Shaking his head, the athletic man quickly lowered his body down into the hole and maneuvered himself over enough to swing to the beam. Once he had made it there safely, he glanced up at Laura and whispered: "Go."

With a singular opposing glance back, Laura rushed away as quietly as possible. Scanning the entire, massive room, she finally spotted an old-fashioned elevator shaft. Picking up a metal bar from the busted window nearby, the brunette pried the heavy doors open with a loud screech.

"Shit…" she muttered, knowing that any chance of a sneaky entrance was just blown to bits. The psychic just hoped that the boggle would check out the ruckus she was making, rather than interrupt Dean's rescue mission.

After a few moments of silent anticipation, there was no movement, so Laura decided to climb down the empty shaft. As the young woman did so, she strained her ears, hoping to hear any signs of danger, but everything was quiet… too quiet.

The air was thick and the psychic began to have a sinking feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. Besides her pounding heart and the soft echo of her movement down the elevator shaft, Laura could not hear any fighting, talking, or movement of any kind. Finally reaching the safety of the ground level, the brunette squeezed through the slightly opened doors and peered around. Nothing.

Drawing the bamboo stake, Laura stealthily moved from shadow to shadow, until she saw the strung up Sam, but instead of being bloody and bruised, he merely appeared frustrated and desperate.

"Sam?" Laura called in a hushed voice as she made her way over to him.

The youngest Winchester's head snapped up: "Laura?"

"Hey, Sammy," she grinned mischievously, for the hunter sort of winced at the nickname. "Where's Dean?" she asked worriedly, for she noticed there was no hole in the ceiling above them.

"He's here?" Sam's eyes widened a bit.

"Yeah," the brunette brushed her hair out of her face as she examined the complicated knots of both rope and plastic tying the hunter's body down.

"Crap," Sam began to struggle some more, which only made the knots tighter.

"Would you stop doin' that?" the psychic commanded, putting down the stake and pulling out her hunting knife.

"The boggle knows we're hunters… it knows you were coming," the youngest Winchester stated.

Laura glanced up at him and felt just as uneasy: "Wonderful," she responded sarcastically as she began sawing the ropes around his right arm.

"Go find him," Sam said urgently.

"I will when I get you loose," the psychic's words sounded calmer than she felt.

"Laura, it's gonna show up as me… as the Devil," Sam's voice sounded almost guilty.

Not willing to look him directly in the eye, the brunette decided not to respond, but rather continue cutting the thick ropes and plastic.

"I know you know…" the youngest Winchester pressed darkly.

Laura merely glanced up at him, for she did not want to get into that conversation at the moment.

"Dean doesn't get spooked easily… he'll be fine," Laura calmly stated finally freeing his arm.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," came a horrifyingly familiar voice behind her.

Spinning around, the brunette's perplexed blue-green eyes landed on the barely conscious body of Dean Winchester. He was beaten to a pulp and looked up at Laura and Sam with a pained expression from his position on the ground.

Shaking, Laura's gaze traveled up from the weakened hunter to the boggle gripping him by the collar. Her once confused eyes then widened and the brunette's face contorted into one of immense grief, terror, and agony.

Looking between the unfamiliar shape the boggle took on and back to Laura, Sam could not understand why she appeared so thoroughly distraught and fearful; he had never seen her like this, and it was beyond worrisome.

Then, after a moment or two if silence, the psychic's trembling voiced breathed: "Dan…"


	39. Chapter 39

**So this chapter is HUGE in Laura's backstory... tells a lot about her past and her family, and this will later be used to explain why she is the way she is and why she does certain things. More backstory will be told in upcoming chapters to further divulge her past and therefore, give more insight into her character and role in the upcoming apocalypse. It was a hard chapter to write, and the theme's pretty dark. On a lighter note, the reviews/comments are so amazing! You guys literally are the best and I just wanna say THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART! Okay, read away!**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine:**

It all happened so fast. Dean had been simply tossed to the side like a lifeless doll, whilst Laura dove for the bamboo shoot, only to be caught mid-air by the boggle. Gripping her by the waist, the creature tossed her hard into the closest iron support beam.

Groaning, the brunette tried to pick herself up, but the boggle was all ready on top of her, kicking the young woman's aching body.

"Stop it!" her throbbing ears made out Sam's shouts, but before anything else could happen, she received a swift kick to the head, and then the outside world faded away.

In the split second that the psychic was knocked out, however, she felt a sharp stinging pain wash across her delicate face, waking her up abruptly.

Moaning, she opened her watering eyes. The slap she had just received was all ready making her cheek swollen.

"Was that really necessary?" she muttered, reaching to rub her face, only to find that she, too, was now strung up.

"No, but I find it entertaining," the boggle spoke evenly.

Squeezing her eyes closed, and reopening them, the situation soon came into focus.

"So you like hitting women… how chivalrous of you," Laura retorted sarcastically, examining that Sam was now completely re-tied to the post, while the still frail, but more coherent Dean was lying on his side, feet and wrists bound tightly with duct tape.

"I figured it was fitting in this form," the creature smirked wickedly, causing the brunette to now focus her attention onto it.

It was Dan all right: tall, broad shoulders, muscular build, and a perfect air of arrogance about him. The man's cold, cobalt blue eyes watched her with the same sensual, intelligent, and even dangerous intensity that they always had, while an amused, crooked grin spread across his face.

Squatting down directly in front of her, he cocked his handsome, yet terrifying face to the side and reached out to gently stroke the brunette's trembling cheek.

Flinching away, Laura let out a small whimper of fear, despite her best efforts to remain calm.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, but her words only caused the man to erupt in his characteristically smooth, charming laughter.

"You know, you're really making this too easy for me," he cooed, still looking at her intently.

Inching even closer, he grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. Shutting her eyes tightly, Laura then felt his familiar soft lips crash down possessively onto her own, causing her to emit a squeak of opposition and repulsion.

"Get off of her!" Dean's husky voice shouted angrily, causing the man to back off with delight at the reactions he was getting.

"Oh, look, your knight in shining armor is finally awake…" the boggle strode over to the eldest Winchester and kicked him hard in the gut.

Sam struggled against his bonds furiously as Laura shrilly shouted: "Stop it, you bastard!"

"Oh come now," the man smoothed his thick, dark brown hair back, "That's no way to talk to the love of your life."

As the words left the monster's cocky, smirking lips, both Winchesters looked over at the psychic in utter confusion, and the expression on her face was something they had never witnessed from her. Lip quivering, eyes welling up with tears of hatred and terror, Laura's entire body was stiff and trembling: she was intimidated… and petrified.

"You're not him," Laura muttered, mostly trying to convince herself of this fact.

"Oh yes, I am… I've read your thoughts, your memories… and I've taken on everything about dear old Dan," he walked back over, sliding the shaking brunette up the support beam by the collar of her jean blouse. "I look like him, speak like him, think, move… even make love… like him." The boggle breathed, his lips hovering over hers.

Laura's blue-green eyes fell in familiar submission against the towering figure, as Sam and Dean squirmed in frustration.

"Laura… look at me…" he spoke softly, yet dangerously.

Biting her lip, she shook her head stiffly as a tear escaped her eye.

"I said look at me!" he bellowed, yanking her closer to him, straining her wrists and arms, which were bound around the iron pole.

The brunette's eyes slowly met his, which seemed to be bright with sick, demented pleasure at her expense.

"Why him?" her voice was timid.

"You know why," the boggle replied.

Catching the glimpses of both highly concerned and perplexed Winchesters, the psychic had found her nerve again: "So what? You look like some psycho ex-boyfriend I used to date? Real imaginative."

His smug grin twitched a bit with fury, and Laura couldn't help but think how much the boggle got Dan's temper down pat.

"Though I'm sure the memories of the verbal and physical abuse is enough to cause anyone to need a lifetime of therapy, I know that won't crack you… no, you're much more complex than that," he began to pace around her in a vulturine manner. "You've never cared much about your own well-being… call it low self-esteem, selflessness, whatever you'd like… regardless, you always put everyone else first."

As Sam and Dean watched on, Laura began to feel physically ill, praying to God this thing would just kill her, rather than forcing her to relive this nightmare.

"That's why you stuck by Dan… I mean _me_… for so long, right? Thought I was some misunderstood, troubled soul that just needed love," his blue eyes twinkled maliciously. "For three years you pathetically stood by, letting me talk you down, tell you how worthless you were… how much of a _freak_ those powers made you… and you just took it all in because I _loved_ you and _needed_ you," he laughed viciously as the brunette's eyes began to well up. "And you let me convince you that no one could understand you the way I did, how no one would ever _really_ care for you except me… turned your back on a lot of friends… and worse, you turned your back on your own _family…_"

The Winchester's helplessly watched on as the usually strong, rational psychic was emotionally unraveling before them. Dean, though in a massive amount of pain, was struggling to find the Swiss Army knife in the back of his jeans, but the expression on Laura's face became to distracting.

"Only when I beat you that first time did you finally realize that they were right all along… then like the pitiful weakling you are, you ran home to mommy and daddy and brought them into it… into the mess you put upon yourself… and then look what happened!" he voice echoed through the warehouse as the psychic silently wept in despair. "You were such a useless coward that you almost got your dad killed!"

As hot streams of tears rolled down her face, the brunette shook her head whispered: "Please, stop."

"You were so naïve and let me continue manipulating you… the second I threatened suicide you ran out of your house… violated your own restraining order… to see me. Didn't give a damn whether or not your family would come after you…" his face was right in front of her own, crying one.

"I said stop it!" Laura cried.

"Stop it? When I'm just getting to the good part? Not a chance," an arrogant, yet still brilliant smile spread across his lips. Then, Dan turned and addressed the Winchesters. "Don't you boys want to know the rest of the story?"

"Bite me," Sam spat, as Dean grunted his agreement: "What he said."

Shrugging, the boggle turned back to the brunette, allowing the eldest Winchester to continue reaching for his knife.

"After I drugged you, I told you that we were going to be together… that nothing was going to stop me from having you… and remember what you said back? Do you?" he goaded her some more.

Though weeping, the psychic felt an intense wave of rage fill her at the memory of that night. Glaring up at that man, the first and last man she would ever stupidly trust… the man who stole everything from her, Laura couldn't believe how she could have ever loved such a despicable monster.

"You still said you loved me… and you begged me not to do what I was planning, as if anything out of your dumb mouth would've mattered to me… but I would've gone through with it. I would've raped and killed you, then myself, if your father hadn't interrupted," the boggle's expression was slowly growing angrier and more crazed. "His face was priceless when he found me on top of your naked and battered body…" he taunted her with immense amusement.

Sam's horrified and furious gaze soon noticed that Dean had finally reached his knife. 'Hurry,' Sam mouthed, as his equally irate older brother began to cut at the duct tape around his wrists. Nodding in total agreement, the sore Dean Winchester worked as fast as possible. He didn't want to hear anything else… he didn't want to watch Laura go through this. All he wanted was to kill this sick, twisted son of a bitch and comfort the distraught young woman, though he understood the latter would be near impossible.

"The old man charged me, which as we both know, didn't end too well for him. How long was he in the hospital for? Seven months, was it? Got him pretty damn good, didn't I?" Dan boasted proudly, still watching the brunette become more beside herself. "Still can't see out of his left eye, metal plates all over his head, and can't even walk more than a few feet without that cane… and all you did while I practically beat your dad to death was scream and cry for me to stop… cowering from your spot on the bed…"

"You drugged me! I couldn't move!" she screamed back, as waves of anger, frustration, guilt, sorrow, and hatred were coming all at once.

With a wicked smile, the boggle pushed some more, knowing very well she was almost at her breaking point: "Your family couldn't even talk to you for months after that… they blamed you for what happened to your poor dad. But who wouldn't? It was all _your_ fault! You chose me over your own family. That's why you ran away to Europe wasn't it? You've hated yourself since all of this happened… and deep down you know they could never _really_ forgive you…"

Laura's head hung down, heavy with grief and self-loathing as she silently wept, unaware that Dean had finally cut his wrists loose.

"I bet they don't even miss you… I bet they're happy you're gone… relieved even," his tone suddenly became completely serious. "You're not around anymore, so they think there's no reason for Dan to come after them, but they're wrong," he spoke threateningly. "Cause he'll kill them now that he's loose, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The brunette's head snapped up immediately, with an alarmed expression all over her face: "No… he's locked away…"

"Wrong," he whispered, with a small smile, for at this point, he was so close: "Daniel A. McMahon escaped Langley's Hospital for the Criminally Insane a month ago… and they found his diary with all his sick thoughts and plans… and your family, Laura, was his first target…"

"You're lying!" she shook her head violently.

"You know he's not gonna stop until he murders them all… and you're not there to protect them. They are all gonna die, and it's all your fault," the boggles teeth began to elongate into sharp fangs as his bottom jaw unhinged, preparing to dine on his terrified victim. "At least you'll be waiting for them on the other side…"

As the creature was about to kill the psychic, Dean Winchester's deep voice hissed into its ear: "Sorry, but not today chuckles."

And with that, the hunter shoved the bamboo steak through the boggle's heart with a loud grunt. Stumbling back, the stunned and bleeding monster looked down at the weapon protruding from its chest and then it crumpled to the floor, dead.

Hysterical and shaking the recently freed brunette could barely stand. As she almost collapsed, the eldest Winchester wrapped his large arms around her. Not sure how to help calm her down, Dean glanced at his brother for help, but Sam appeared just as lost and upset. All Dean could do was silently hold Laura, as she wailed in anguish into his chest.

* * *

The psychic had not uttered a single word since they had arrived back at the hotel. As the Winchesters watched the now oddly emotionless young woman pack up her belongings, they looked at one another helplessly. Disappearing into the bedroom, Dean rose from his seat and hesitantly followed her.

"Why don't you let me do that?" he offered, gazing at her compassionately as she threw clothes into her duffel bag.

When Laura didn't respond, the eldest Winchester tried a different approach: "The thing was lyin'. Sam checked and that asshole is still locked up, good and tight."

"It doesn't matter," the brunette said in a low voice.

"Sure as Hell matters! You're family's safe," Dean responded, trying to make her see that there was nothing to worry about.

Slamming the bag onto the bed, Laura turned to look over at him furiously: "But for how long? Dan's eventually gonna find a way out… and if he doesn't kill them, then the apocalypse will!"

"No it won't… we're gonna stop it…"

"You honestly believe that?" the uncharacteristically pessimistic woman spat.

"Yes… I do," Dean lied convincingly.

Staring him hard in the face, Laura laughed incredulously: "We don't have a shot in Hell at stoppin' the Devil… the world's gonna end and there's nothin' we can do about it!"

"Don't do that," Dean argued back as the brunette grabbed her duffel and threw it over her shoulder: "Don't you dare give up…"

"Why not? What's the goddamn point?" she snarled, waving her arms.

"The point is… you're lettin' that thing get to you and you need to stop," he looked at her intensely as she walked past him and back into the main room.

"You wanna know why what you said hurt me so much?" Laura asked with raised eyebrows as Sam stood up.

Taken a bit off guard, Dean glanced at his younger brother and then looked back down at the seemingly defeated young woman.

"Cause it's true."

"No it's not. You left to keep them safe," Sam chimed in, gazing at her sympathetically.

Looking over at the youngest Winchester, the brunette felt her self-hatred growing even more: "I left because I couldn't handle the guilt. I let that _monster_ into our lives… let him nearly destroy everything!"

"You didn't know…" Sam spoke calmly as his heart broke for his friend.

"It's no excuse," she shook her head bitterly. "Almost got my dad killed and he's gonna have to live with his handicaps the rest of his life… cause of me."

"You're family doesn't blame you," the youngest Winchester tried to show her that this wasn't her fault, but Laura wasn't willing to hear it.

"Of course they do! They warned me, I didn't listen, and look what happened!" her blue-green eyes began to fill up with tears again.

"But they forgave you cause they love you."

"Yeah, and you wanna know how I repaid them? I abandoned them!"

"No you didn't," Dean spoke up firmly.

"No? Then what am I doing with my life right now?" the brunette asked shrilly.

"We've been over this before… you did it to keep them safe," the eldest Winchester said in frustration.

"Sure that's what I tell myself, but deep down, I know I walked away cause I'm selfish… and a coward," the self-loathing dripped off of the psychic's words.

"Listen to me right now," Dean's voice was shaking with anger. "You are _not _a coward, and you are_ not_ selfish!"

A couple of tears escaped her stinging eyes as her quivering voice responded: "I couldn't take it anymore. Seeing my dad like that, or the looks they gave me. I ran away so I wouldn't have to see the pain I've caused them anymore."

Dean shook his head as the young woman began to cry again. Moving forward to hug her, Laura stepped away: "Don't!"

"Laura…" he said in a low, despairing voice.

"I said don't!" she shot back, storming toward the door.

Sam and Dean watched on speechlessly as the brunette paused, and said with a monotone voice: "Bobby's expecting us."

Then, without another look back, the still crying psychic left the room and Winchesters behind.


	40. Chapter 40

**Wow! So many new readers! Thank you all for getting this far and catching up! I know it's a REALLY long story, so I appreciate it! Also, thanks so much to all of you who have been following since my poorly written first few chapters up until now! It really means so much! I also want to apologize for how long it took me to update. On top of hitting a bit of a writer's block, I've been really sick, but here's Chapter 40! It's pretty intense and a HUGE part of Season 5's plot, so yes, it is LONG, but I promise, it's worth the read. Okay, well comment if you have the time and any thoughts/suggestions. Other than that, enjoy! :D**

**Chapter Forty:**

"Like I told yah… she hasn't said a word about it," Bobby Singer sighed deeply as he stared out the kitchen window at the young woman.

"You should've seen her, Bobby," Sam shook his head sadly, as all three hunters examined the brunette pulling groceries out from her '66 Stang. "No matter what she wants us to believe, she not gonna just shrug this off."

"As I said, I've tried talkin' to her, but she won't have any of it," Bobby scratched his beard with a worried expression. "Says there's other things to be belly achin' about."

"So what? She's just been researching the apocalypse the whole month and a half?" Dean inquired with raised eyebrows.

"Pretty much," Bobby mumbled bleakly as the front door swung open.

"You boys gonna catch up on gossip or help me carry this stuff in?" Laura's breathless voice asked from behind three massive, overstuffed grocery bags.

"Looked like you could handle it," Dean teased a bit, as the struggling psychic plopped the bags onto the table.

Folding her arms, Laura responded jokingly: "I'd think you'd wanna exercise your renewed youth after spending a couple days as a cranky old fart."

As Sam and Bobby laughed, the eldest Winchester made a face.

"Oh cheer up, Grumpy, I got you a surprise," she patted him on the shoulder as she made her way back towards the front door. "Check the second bag," she smirked, before exiting the house once again.

Perking up, the eldest Winchester hungrily dug into the bag and yanked out a box from the local bakery. Untying it eagerly, Dean opened the box gleefully.

"Dude!" he exclaimed with a schoolgirl level of excitement, sniffing the baked deliciousness glutinously.

"Pie?" Sam asked with a monotone voice, as Bobby shook his head in exasperation.

Grinning from ear to ear, Dean showed them the most glorious, most colossal pie he had ever seen: "_Caramel Apple Pecan_ Pie!"

As his two companions looked at him blankly, Dean's wide, toothy grin faltered a bit, unsure as to why they didn't seem remotely enthused about eating this culinary masterpiece.

"Fine, more for me," he muttered, grabbing a fork and diving in to the freshly baked pie.

"Man, could you focus? We need to make sure Laura's okay," Sam said disapprovingly as he watched his older brother shovel the box's contents into his mouth at a sickening rate.

"She seems fine to me," Dean said with a stuffed mouth, before groaning and taking another large bite.

Slapping the eldest Winchester upside the head, Bobby opened his mouth to scold him, but Laura soon re-entered the house with a tall stack of library books and a bag from the liquor store.

"I see someone's enjoying himself," she grunted as Sam rushed over and took the books from her.

"Holy crap, did you take out the whole library?" Sam muttered.

"Almost," the brunette smirked, yanking the fork out of Dean's protesting hand. As the eldest Winchester watched her with an annoyed expression for interrupting his feeding time, the psychic took a bite of the tasty dessert. "Mm… should've gotten the cheesecake…"

"No you should not!" Dean cried, pulling the pie away from her with a thoroughly offended expression.

Laura giggled a bit and put her hand up in defense as Dean took the fork from her and turned his undivided attention back onto the pie: "Don't listen to her…"

Laura had never witnessed Dean's obsession with this particular dessert first-hand, so naturally, she was a bit lost: "Okay… well I'm gonna go read…"

"Want help?" Sam offered somewhat eagerly.

"Ugh, yeah, sure… why not?" Laura responded awkwardly, for she knew that being alone with the youngest Winchester could only mean one thing: an uncomfortable discussion.

Picking the books up from the table, Sam followed the brunette out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" he asked, as she made her way up the staircase.

"I've been doing my research in my room… figured makin' a mess of Bobby's library wouldn't be appreciated," Laura replied, continuing her way up to the guest bedroom with the youngest Winchester close behind her.

As she opened the creaky door, Sam's eyes widened at the sight before him. Tons of papers were taped to the walls and various colored strings were pinned every-which-way, connecting the various excerpts from books and newspapers in an undecipherable pattern. Beyond that, maps were laid out across the floor with an array highlighted routes and red markings covering them, along with a stack of videotapes by the old VCR and TV in the corner.

Laura must have noticed Sam's awe-filled expression, for she smirked and said: "Impressive, huh?"

"Laura… what is all this?" Sam asked, completely overwhelmed at the seemingly disorganized information dump covering her usually tidy room.

"Everything about the apocalypse and you and your brother's prophecy," the brunette replied, carefully stepping around the items she had placed on the floor. "Well… everything that isn't a load of extremist bullshit and Hollywood fluff."

Sam nodded his head slowly, following her precise path around the dozens of books, maps, and printed papers.

"Believe it or not, this is a lot more organized than before," she chuckled a bit, crawling across the queen-sized bed and sitting up against the headboard.

"You're kidding," the youngest Winchester couldn't help but be impressed about how thorough she was being.

"Nope," Laura reached out, taking the books from Sam as he sat down beside her. "There's so much out there about… well… the end of the world. It's not collecting information that's hard, but sifting through the crap and finding consistencies across cultures and religions… that's the tricky part."

"I can imagine," Sam raised his eyebrows. "Have you found anything worth while?"

"Nothing we don't all ready know. Lucifer rises after 66 seals break, the four Horsemen run around for a while, and the prophecy continues as scheduled," she sighed, looking at each book title and deciding to start with a massive, brown leather-bound book written in Latin.

"So me and Dean are supposed to say yes. Then what? We duke it out 'til one of us wins?"

Opening the dusty manuscript, Laura looked over at Sam with a troubled expression: "It's not gonna go down quite like that…"

"What do you mean?" Sam inquired with a perplexed expression.

"It's gonna be a long war… like seven years…" she said quietly.

"Seven years?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Apparently," the psychic chewed on her lip.

"Jesus," the youngest Winchester slumped back against the headboard.

"Not exactly," her tone and expression was ominous.

Turning to look at the brunette in confusion, Sam silently coaxed her to explain.

"Lucifer rises and brings about the apocalypse, but with him comes the Beast," Laura recited something she had read previously.

The youngest Winchester's eyes widened: "The Beast? You mean the Anti-Christ?"

"Didn't Dean tell you?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"Yeah, but I figured Zachariah was just showing him crap to scare him into saying yes to Michael," Sam admitted that he didn't take his older brother's experience too seriously.

"I thought the same, until I read this," she got up and pulled a huge, ancient book from the desk. Handing it to him, Sam opened it to the marked page.

"It's in Arabic…" he pointed out, but Laura then handed him a piece of paper with translations scribbled on it.

Reading it quickly, the hunter's head snapped up and looked at the brunette with an uneasy expression: "And you think this is accurate?"

"That's why I'm checking this book," she sighed.

"You read Latin?" Sam was impressed again.

"I practically failed in high school, but I guess dealing with demons for two years helped," she grinned bleakly. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

"Yeah," he chuckled a bit, picking up the next book in the stack.

Opening it, the youngest Winchester flipped through some pages, skimming as he went, though his mind was on anything but the work. Stealing glances whenever he could, he watched the clearly exhausted young woman pouring over the pages with a pen in her mouth. Laura looked like she hadn't slept in days, and her usually bright eyes were dim and her slender shoulders sagged, as if she were holding the weight of the world on them.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam couldn't stop himself: "How are you doing?"

Blinking a few times, the brunette looked up from the work she was absorbed in with an inquisitive expression: "Ugh, there's a couple paragraphs I'm iffy about, but you can look at 'em in a little."

"That's not what I meant," he gazed at the psychic intently.

Sighing, she took the pen out of her mouth and marked her place in the book, giving Sam her full attention.

"I haven't tried to push you into talkin'… I've let it alone for a while, but I just wanna make sure you're okay," he spoke tentatively.

"I'm fine, Sam," Laura's terse words were defensive and stern.

"I don't believe you. I mean after what you've been through, it's okay to be upset…" he ventured with a low voice.

"It happened a long time ago. I've come to terms with it and moved on," she responded stiffly.

"Have you? Cause not talking for a week after doesn't seem like you've moved on," the youngest Winchester persisted.

"Look, I needed time to collect myself. I dealt with it, and I'm okay now. So I appreciate the concern, but you don't need to worry about me," the brunette was clearly trying to remain patient.

"Okay," he nodded, still looking at her with a scrutinizing amount of intensity. "But I just wanna let you know that what he did to you and your family… it wasn't your fault… you should forgive yourself."

"Sam, stop," she snapped, barely keeping her temper in check. "You need to stop treating me like some ticking time-bomb. If I say I'm okay, then I'm okay!"

"You may have convinced yourself that, but I can see right through it. You don't sleep, you barely eat, and you drink even more than Dean does… you're spiraling," he shook his head, trying as hard as he could to get through to her.

"Why can't you just back off?" Laura's voice was shaking with anger and frustration. "We got enough to worry about with the Devil being top-side."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Then why can't you just drop it, Sam?"

"Cause you're scarin' me, Laur. You're scarin' all of us. How do we know you're not gonna put a bullet in your head?" he asked seriously.

Laura laughed in disbelief: "If there's anyone we should be keepin' on suicide watch, it's Bobby… or did you forget him nearly gambling away his life to get out of that chair?"

"I haven't forgotten…" Sam tried to speak, but the irate young woman cut him off.

"Good. So then go bother him, cause frankly, I don't have time for this," the brunette rose from her seat, taking the book with her, and angrily walked out the door.

"Good job, Sam," the youngest Winchester said to himself in a low, aggravated voice. All he wanted to do was make sure Laura was okay. He knew her well enough at this point to understand that she wasn't going to cry about her problems, but the fact that she buried everything terrified him. Laura always struck him as strong and optimistic, even in such dismal times, but now, all the guilt, fear, and pressure was turning her into an angry individual. The youngest Winchester just wanted to help her, to let her know she didn't have to go through this alone, that she was family, and that everything would be okay, but now, it seemed, he had just pushed her further away.

* * *

Laura awoke with a start on the worn out library couch. Rubbing her blood-shot eyes, she stared at the ceiling and inhaled deeply, feeling grateful for the couple hours of undisturbed shut-eye she had just had. Since New Orleans, the brunette was plagued with horrific nightmares every time she slept more than an hour, and this much-needed nap was the first pleasant one she had in over a month.

Sitting up, the psychic stretched her cramped arms and looked around the empty, dimly lit room. The sun had gone down, and she figured she must have been passed out for at least few hours. Rising from her seat, she yawned and shuffled into the kitchen.

"Gramps?" she called, entering the vacant room. "Dean? Sam?"

When no one responded, the psychic peered out the window. Bobby's pick-up and the Impala were still there, but where was everyone? Although the brunette was pleased to not have them around to pester her, she couldn't help but have a bad feeling about the situation; then she noticed something even more unsettling: the clock on the wall had froze completely.

Walking over to it with a confused and slightly unnerved expression, Laura went up on her tiptoes and tapped the timepiece gently.

"It's not broken," came a gravelly male voice directly behind her.

Jumping, Laura grabbed the frying pan off the counter and spun around: "Damn it, Cas!" she lowered her weapon and sighed in relief. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," the angel's blue eyes gazed into hers deeply.

"Nice of you to finally show up," the brunette muttered, putting the pan back.

"I was busy. I came as soon as I could," he responded, looking around the outdated kitchen.

"I called two days ago…" she reminded him flatly.

"Having the entire army of Heaven to avoid is not very easy," Castiel pointed out seriously.

Nodding her head, Laura responded: "True. So I take it I'm dreaming?"

"Yes, though I don't understand why you wished to speak with me in private," the angel of the Lord stated with furrowed eyebrows.

"I don't want to worry anyone 'til I'm sure," she spoke gravely.

Castiel stared back at her blankly.

"Is it true?" the psychic practically whispered.

"Is what true?"

"What Lucifer's gonna do… to some poor girl," she breathed with an agonizing look.

The angel in the trench coat looked down sadly: "It has been written: _'A woman of Grace shall unwillingly bear the burden of the Beast'_."

"I know what's been written, Cas. I wanna know if it's true. Is the Devil gonna force himself on some innocent woman?" Laura's mind traveled to her own scarring memory of Dan's attempted rape.

"Yes," Castiel replied heavily.

"Why can't he just find some slut in a Satanic Colt to punish, huh?" she shook her head in utter disgust and anger.

"It must be a complete defamation of the Immaculate Conception in order for the true Anti-Christ to be born," the angel explained darkly.

"Well we have to find this girl… we have to protect her!" Laura's blue-green eyes blazed passionately.

"It's too late," Castiel turned his back on her and gazed out the window, into the night sky.

"What do you mean?" she asked with wide eyes, but when he didn't respond, Laura stepped in front of his line of vision. "Cas… what do you mean?"

"I heard the angel's talking… Lucifer has found her, and when the time comes, he _will_ take her."

Laura's heart sank and her head began to spin, as her hand absentmindedly traveled up to the small, discolored scar on her chest from when her amulet burned her.

Noticing her extremely sickened disposition, Castiel's piercing, icy blue eyes widened. Taking her delicate hand, he pulled it back, and examined the strange mark. Gingerly reaching out, he glanced up at the brunette, silently asking permission. With her troubled eyes averted in compliance, the angel proceeded to touch the tiny scar, but then immediately withdrew his hand with a slight gasp.

"You… you saw him?" his voice trembled with fear.

Laura couldn't bring herself to look up at him. This couldn't be happening…

"Laura… did you see him?" his voice was more fierce as his eyes bored holes into her.

"Technically no," she whispered, trying to convince herself that the fact that she saw the Devil in a dream would make a difference.

"When?" he demanded.

"After he broke loose. I was knocked out in that convent and I dreamt about him. That's it…" she finally looked up at the alarmed warrior of Heaven. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time… it doesn't mean anything. Right?"

Castiel gazed at her with a dumb-founded expression.

"Right?" her voice became more shrill and desperate.

"I'm sorry," he breathed sincerely.

"No… no, no, no," Laura muttered to herself in dismay as she paced the kitchen. "This can't be happening… no. This is ridiculous."

Castiel didn't know what to do to comfort the distraught young woman as she began to hyperventilate a little bit. He always had a hunch that she would play an important role in Judgment Day, but this… this was completely unexpected. This human female had been through so much all ready, but now this? How could his Father be so cruel? He needed to find him… to speak with him.

"It can't be me, Cas. It can't… I'm not a woman of grace…" she rambled frantically.

"It is true. You aren't very strong in your faith… and you're _certainly_ not a virgin," Castiel said thoughtfully.

Under ordinary circumstances, the brunette would have been offended by his judgmental tone, but in this case, she was dying for something to ease her mind.

"Exactly! I'm nothing like Mary! So… it's just a coincidence. My bat signal must've gotten all screwed up and I dreamt something crazy," Laura inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down.

Though he did not understand what a 'bat signal' was, Castiel had to admit that Laura was nothing like the prophesized female. Yes, she was moral and virtuous, but she was not pure like Mary. The psychic was sinful and held every human vice; so then why did the Devil present himself to her. It did not make sense.

"I hope you are right," the angel in the trench coat appeared just as troubled. "But we must be sure."

"How?" Laura whispered with doe-like eyes.

"My Father will know," Castiel spoke with certainty.

"What if you can't find Him in time?" her voice was small and trembling.

"Then we will just need to find a way to kill the Devil," the angel looked her square in the eyes with an intensity she had never seen before. "I will not let this fate befall you."

Laura smiled faintly, though she was anything but comforted: "Thanks…" she breathed, and then suddenly became quite serious. "Cas… let's keep this between me and you until we know for sure…"

Castiel gave the young woman a puzzled look, for he could not fathom why she would want to keep this horrendous, burdensome news to herself, but the pleading look she was giving him was too much.

Then, nodding curtly, the angel of the Lord disappeared in a gust of wind.

* * *

Laura was drenched in a cold sweat as she hunched over the toilet bowl and emptied her stomach's contents. As the room continued to spin, she prayed that her incessant vomiting did not wake anyone up, but when there was a light rapping at the door, she knew her efforts at being quiet had failed.

"Laura?" came Dean's groggy, yet worried voice.

"I'm fine," she quickly dried her tears.

"I'm comin' in," he announced, opening the bathroom door.

"I said I'm okay," she looked up with a tired, yet reassuring smirk.

"Yeah, you sure look okay," he said sarcastically, opening the cabinet and grabbing a plastic cup.

Turning on the water he filled the glass and handed it to her.

"Another nightmare?" he sighed, sitting down beside her and leaning against the bathtub.

Sipping the water she nodded her head slowly. If he only knew…

"Wanna talk about it?" he yawned.

As the brunette's mind traveled back to her conversation with Castiel, her stomach flipped once again, and she slammed the cup down.

Throwing up once more, Dean immediately sat up, unsure of what to do. Tentatively holding her long, messy hair back, he looked at her sadly. She shouldn't have to suffer this much from simply trying to sleep. It wasn't fair.

Once she had finished, the psychic sighed as she flushed the filled toilet.

"Can you get my toothbrush?" she asked with a pathetic smile.

Dean chuckled a bit: "Yeah." As he put toothpaste on the brush, he watched Laura weakly hoist herself up and sit on top of the toilet seat.

"Here," he handed it to the grateful young woman.

"Sorry I woke you up," her garbled, voice apologized through the mouthful of minty foam.

"I actually had to take a leak," Dean admitted with a grin.

"Oh," she rose quickly, spitting into the sink and rinsing it out. "Go ahead. Sorry."

Taking the glass with her, she went to the door.

"You don't need to rush out if you still feel sick," the eldest Winchester said with a concerned look.

Laura gazed at the sleepy hunter. His hair was a mess, and his stubble was worse than usual. And although he looked undeniably cute in his black t-shirt and gray boxer briefs, it was the look he was giving her that made the brunette want to stay.

"I'm… I'm fine," she lied.

The eldest Winchester could tell that she wasn't, but he didn't want to push her like Sammy did. Dean was never comfortable having deep, soul-bearing conversations, but for the first time in his life, that didn't matter. Laura had been through more than most people could ever imagine, and the fact that she was still able to hold her head high and be a good person was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

"Laura…" he called, stopping the brunette on her way out.

"Yeah?" she folded her arms tightly, protecting her chilly body from the draftiness of Bobby's house.

Gazing at the exhausted young woman, the eldest Winchester decided this wasn't the time to try to force her to talk.

"I, um, just wanted to thank you."

"For getting out of the bathroom or for the pie?" she flashed her contagious smile.

"For not giving up," Dean looked deep into her captivating blue-green eyes.

They stood there in silence for a moment or two, looking at one another; each of them completely unaware as to how much the other desperately needed someone to talk to.

Fighting the urge to break down right then and there, Laura swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew that Dean had entirely too much of his own baggage to deal with. The amount of pressure and guilt he felt, about everything, was enough to crush any man, and she would be damned if she was to cause him anymore pain.

"Good-night, Dean," the brunette smiled sweetly, but once she had turned her back on the eldest Winchester, her face fell, as terrified and lonely tears escaped her eyes.


	41. Chapter 41

**So I'm gonna keep my rambling short here. One: thank you all, as always, for the amazing support! Love the reviews so keep them coming! And keep following/favoriting if you've gotten this far! Two: I own nothing but my OC! Three: READ AWAY! **

**Chapter Forty-One:**

"You sure you don't wanna come?" the youngest Winchester asked one last time from the Impala's passenger seat window.

Glancing between both Sam and Dean's scrutinizing looks, Laura responded: "I'm sure. Just gonna ease-drop on angel radio and hopefully find a lead on how to ice the Devil… or least where the other Horsemen are."

The Winchesters nodded in agreement, as the brunette added with a devilish grin: "Besides, someone's gotta keep an eye on Gramps… make sure he doesn't wheel himself off the nearest cliff."

As the brothers chuckled, Bobby grumpily called from his spot on the porch: "I heard that!"

Giggling, Laura stepped away from the '67 Chevy and waved as the Winchesters pulled out of the driveway. Crossing her arms, the brunette watched the black muscle car speed away, kicking up plumes of dust behind it, and then it was gone.

Sighing, the psychic headed up the porch steps and avoided Bobby's scrutinizing stare. Opening the front door, Laura walked back into the house, with the surly hunter close behind her.

"Wanna tell me why you passed up a hunt?" he finally voiced what was troubling him.

Grabbing a couple of beers from the refrigerator, Laura threw the bottle caps into the trash and handed one to the bearded man.

"Can't a girl just wanna spend some time with you?" she smirked playfully as she took a seat at the table.

"No," he shook his head seriously.

"What? You don't want me around or something?" the brunette inquired, arching her brow. "Afraid I'll ruin your next suicide attempt?"

"I'm not gonna do anythin'!" Bobby cried in exasperation, before bitterly drinking from his own bottle. "Make one stupid mistake and I get labeled a damn basket-case."

"Well it was a pretty big one, so you can't blame me for being worried," Laura shrugged.

"Kiddo," Mr. Singer looked her square in the face, "I'm not goin' anywhere, so stop usin' my sorry ass as an excuse."

"An excuse for what?"

"For why you're choosin' to stay behind with your face buried in books."

"Lame job in Ohio or figure out how to kill the Devil," she weighed the options. "I think it's pretty clear which one's more important."

"Well if you feel so strongly about it, why didn't you hound the boys to stay behind an help?" Bobby inquired, clearly still suspicious of the young woman's true motives.

"It's just faster if I do it myself," the brunette responded casually, but when Bobby merely looked at her, she tried to explained herself: "I mean Sam could barely make heads or tails of all the stuff I all ready put together, and Dean… well last time I saw him with a book, he was using it as a pillow. Besides, I have you to help me," she smiled sweetly as she rose from the chair and headed towards the door.

"And how do you expect me to help when all your crap it upstairs?" he wheeled after the psychic as she climbed the steps.

"Oh, don't worry… I left a pile of stuff to track the Horsemen in the library," Laura grinned over her shoulder.

"Well ain't that sweet of you," he muttered sarcastically.

"Love you, Gramps!" the brunette's merry voice called from upstairs.

Grinning despite himself, Bobby Singer then proceeded to wheel himself in the library, mentally preparing for a long, frustrating day of work.

Laura, on the other hand, had dropped her cheerful façade as she opened the door to the guest bedroom. Sighing, she looked around the now more organized room. Having narrowed down the information she had gathered, the brunette created a concise web of vital facts, lore, and possible ways to track Lucifer's movements pinned and strung together on the wall; but to her great frustration, the only thing she was struggling to dig up was any known or rumored method on how to actually kill the Devil.

As she stared hard at the overwhelmingly detailed wall, the psychic was completely unaware of a figure materializing behind her. Only when a familiar voice spoke up did the startled young woman turn around.

"Well if this isn't a bit obsessive, I don't know what it," Pamela Barnes wittily remarked.

"Pam!" Laura couldn't conceal her excitement. It had been a long time since the deceased psychic had shown herself to the brunette, and after the young woman's depressing conversation with Castiel, Pamela was definitely a sight for sore eyes.

Beaming, Pamela looked up at her best friend from her seat on the bed. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around Laura and give her the hug she so deserved and needed, but alas, she couldn't.

"Hiya, kiddo," she leaned back on the bed lazily. "Missed me?"

"You have _no_ idea," Laura genuinely smiled for the first time in days.

Plopping down beside her deceased mentor and best friend, Laura's mind raced with how much she wished to fill her in on.

Sensing how troubled the brunette was, the late Ms. Barnes commented: "God… you look awful…"

"I feel like I've been getting that a lot…" Laura mused out loud, trying to sound more lighthearted than she felt.

"Well when you look more like a corpse than your dead best friend…" Pamela droned playfully, but Laura cut her off.

"Okay, okay. I get it," the young woman chuckled. "I've just been busy… you know… with Armageddon and all."

"Yeah, well you need to take better care of yourself," Pamela said seriously.

"I do," Laura lied.

Raising her eyebrows, the usually easy-going Ms. Barnes gave her friend a disapproving look: "You call not eating or sleeping and workin' yourself into the ground takin' care of yourself?"

"I'll rest when I'm dead," the young psychic joked.

Shaking her head, Pamela crossed her arms and said sternly: "Will you stop with that? I'm bein' serious."

"I don't know what you want me to say!" Laura shrugged, laying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

Lying down beside her, Pamela spoke softly: "I know you had a hard time last hunt. That boggle brought up a lot of crap about Dan and your family, but you can't let it get to you."

Looking over into her deceased companion's beautiful brown eyes, Laura asked in a low voice: "How'd you know?"

"Sam."

"Sam?" the brunette inquired with furrowed eyebrows.

Smirking, Pamela explained: "Yeah… kid still prays every night, and he's been praying to me about you."

Seeing that Laura was still lost, the ghostly psychic continued: "It took him a while, but his callin' out to me finally got through. That's why I came."

Laura nodded slowly, but didn't respond. Instead, she just continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Why didn't you contact me after that?" Pamela asked with an almost hurt tone of voice.

"Cause I was fine," the brunette responded simply.

"Laur, stop lyin'."

"I'm not," Laura now looked at her friend's spirit. "It definitely rattled me and I'll even admit I was a mess for a week after, but I'm okay now. I swear."

Contemplating whether or not to believe the young woman's words, Pamela looked deeply into Laura's blue-green eyes. Though the brunette seemed to be being genuine and honest, she could tell that there was something seriously wrong.

"Fine, but I know something's goin' on with you… so if it's not Dan, what is it?"

Laura inhaled deeply and nervously examined her amulet, for she did not want to voice her fears. It would only make them seem more real.

"If you tell me, I can help you."

"I doubt that," she murmured darkly.

"Laura," Pamela was not going to give up that easily. "Spill."

"It may not even be true," the brunette stalled.

Giving her stubborn friend a firm look, Pamela Barnes commanded that she tell her anyway.

"You know the Anti-Christ prophecy?" Laura asked, still unable to make eye contact with her late mentor.

"Yeah, rumors have been flyin' around the other side that Lucifer found the host for his little bundle of demonic joy," Pamela responded dryly. "Poor girl has no clue how screwed she is."

"Well… she actually might…" Laura's voice was barely audible.

Sitting straight up, Pamela gazed down at the ominous brunette with a nervous expression.

"What does that mean?" she ordered, but the young woman remained silent.

The deceased psychic examined Laura closely as things began to fall into place. Looking from the brunette's troubled face, to her amulet, Pamela's mind began connecting the dots, and then her worried brown eyes landed on a small scar on her best friend's chest.

Emitting the most sorrowful of wails, Pamela put her head in her hands: "Oh, Laur… no… no!"

Laura sat up slowly and gazed at the ghost of her heartbroken sister.

"You can't be… you? No… just no," Pamela looked pleadingly at the young woman, silently begging to be told that this was all some kind of a sick joke.

The brunette swallowed hard and responded: "We aren't sure yet."

"We?" Ms. Barnes' voice shook as she tried to calm herself down.

"Castiel. He's looking for God. He thinks He'll give us some answers," Laura explained. "Maybe He'll even give us a way to kill Lucifer and avoid this whole mess."

"How does he expect to find God when every angel is gunning for him?" Pamela asked shrilly. How could this be happening? Why did it have to be Laura? And now she was supposed to trust that one angel could find his long-lost Father in time to save the world and her best friend? Hopeless didn't even begin to describe this situation.

"I don't know, but I gotta believe he can find God, or at least figure out a way to kill this son of a bitch," Laura's expression was desperate.

At this point, Pamela stood up and began to pace around, muttering to herself.

Watching her frantic best friend, the brunette did not know what to say, or what to even think.

"What does Bobby think? Or Sam and Dean?" Ms. Barnes inquired. "Do they have any ideas?"

"They don't know," the young woman looked down.

"You didn't tell them?" she cried incredulously.

"No… and I'm not going to," Laura suddenly stood up passionately. "I need them to stay strong and not say yes. If I tell them this, they're just gonna lose hope, and that won't help solve anything."

"But Laur…"

"No! I need them to be focused on ending this thing. They can't get distracted!" she argued fiercely.

Pamela pushed her thick, black hair back, thinking as hard as she could.

"And you haven't come up with anything that can possibly kill him?"

Laura shook her head, feeling more and more hopeless with each passing second.

Walking up to Laura, Pamela looked her hard in the face: "I'm gonna do everything I can to figure this out. I'll try every spirit in the veil… I'll march into Heaven and find God myself if I need to… I will _not_ let you deal with this alone."

Laura forced herself to smile, but that disingenuous mask of confidence couldn't last for more than a moment.

"Laura, I swear. We _will_ figure this out. Me, you, and that crazy angel… we'll stop this," Pamela's voice was strong and determined.

The brunette nodded her head and muttered: "Yeah. Yeah, we will."

Then, Pamela Barnes gave her resilient sister one last, reassuring look and disappeared with a whisper: "I promise I'll find a way to save you."

* * *

"Bobby, they're fine," Laura sighed, looking up from her laptop.

"Those idjits can't last two days without callin' and naggin' me, let alone a week," Bobby Singer stated the God's honest truth.

It had been six days since the Winchesters had left for their hunt in Ohio. Bobby was all ready irritable from a week of straight, fruitless research, and the lack of communication from Sam and Dean was certainly making matters worse.

Watching the surly hunter check his messages for the fifth time, Laura couldn't say she blamed him. Both brothers were always better than she was with checking in, especially if the hunt was taking this long.

"Maybe they've finally managed to handle a job all on their own," the brunette mused, though she highly doubted that, and from the look on Mr. Singer's face, so did he.

"Those two block-heads have never handled a case without pesterin' me for somethin'…" he took off his trucker hat and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm tellin' you… they're fine… they always are," the psychic tried to ease his mind.

"Those boys are never fine," Bobby grumbled. "Can't even count the number of times I've needed to save their sorry asses."

After a moment of reflection, the brunette had to agree as she nodded her head a bit.

"Want me to try to call them again?" she asked, pulling out her iPhone.

Nodding stiffly, Bobby grumbled: "Yeah, and if they answer, tell 'em that I might be in a wheelchair, but I can still beat their heads in."

Smirking a bit at the gruff hunter's threats, Laura dialed Dean's number, but it went straight to voicemail. Hanging up, the young woman tried Sam's number, but again, there was no response.

Now finding herself growing more and more uneasy, Laura looked across the kitchen at Bobby and shook her head slowly. Then, one of the many phones rang.

Nearly leaping out of his seat, Bobby immediately picked up the telephone.

"Hello?" he answered curtly, but then he immediately grew grumpier, so Laura could only assume it was, indeed, one of the Winchesters. "Oh, nice of you to call us back… and yah both couldn't find time check your phones?" he reprimanded them. Then a confused look spread across his wrinkled face: "What? The trickster was an angel? Gabriel? Well I'll be damned…"

At this point Laura moved closer as Bobby began to scold them again: "Well yah still couldn't have picked up a damned payphone? Well was he okay?"

Now the psychic's interest was thoroughly peaked, so she asked who was in trouble.

Holding his hand over the mouthpiece, Mr. Singer responded: "Chuck."

"The prophet?" she clarified.

Nodding his head, Bobby continued with his conversation: "Well that's interesting an all but why couldn't you…" then, the seasoned hunter's eyes widened. "You're sure? Well that sure does change things... all right, well hurry yer asses back here. We need to find this Crowley a.s.a.p."

Hanging up the phone with a somewhat stunned expression, Bobby was silent, taking no notice to the clearly inquisitive and eager Laura gawking at him.

"What happened? Who's Crowley?" she asked, staring at the shocked man sitting before her.

"He's a demon. Worked closely with Lilith…" he looked at her with an almost excited expression.

"Okay, and?" she was still completely lost.

"And apparently he has the Colt," the still stupefied Bobby Singer explained, and as those words left his lips, both he and the brunette realized that this could be the chance they all needed. If they could get their hands on that gun, they might actually be able to kill Lucifer. This was their shot to change their fates and stop the apocalypse. This was their salvation.


	42. Chapter 42

**So as you all can tell, I'm super excited to be writing these next few chapters. The next one is huge and is what you all have been waiting for, so keep an eye out for it. ;) I hope to have it published in a day or two! Anyways, I own nothing but my OC. Okay, read away3 **

**Chapter Forty-Two:**

The infamous cherry red 1966 Mustang sped down dimly lit rural side-roads, sending swirls of dirt and leaves every-which-way. The sun had almost completely set, and Laura Norwood was finding herself on a bit of a tight timetable.

Tonight was the night they would break into Crowley's highly fortified mansion, and even though the stakes were high in order to steal the Colt back, there was even more pressure on them to make sure they would all return from this mission in one piece and ready to take on the Devil.

Figuring there was more strength in numbers, Sam and Dean had called in their good friend Jo Harvelle to better their chances of success, whilst the brunette drove all over the state to collect as many supplies and weapons she could get her hands on.

As her mind raced faster than her speeding muscle car, the psychic was trying to keep calm about what was to come, but the very dark and very ominous nightmares that had plagued her few hours of sleep during the past four nights had left her beyond unsettled. Deep down, she knew something was going to go terribly awry, but for the life of her, she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Absentmindedly singing to Aerosmith's "Dream On," Laura fought her hardest to ease her mind, though when the chorus came on, her efforts backfired:

_'Sing with me, sing it for the year._

_Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear._

_Sing with me, if it's just for today,_

_Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away…'_

"Let's hope the 'good Lord' won't," she muttered bleakly, turning off the radio as she pulled into a long, hidden driveway to some ramshackle cottage where the Winchesters had told her to meet them.

Pulling the classic vehicle beside Dean's '67 Chevy, the brunette looked at the boarded up hut and sighed deeply, mentally readying herself to be reamed out by the eldest Winchester due to her tardiness.

Grabbing the bulging duffel bag, she jumped out of the car and walked across the overgrown lawn, shivering a bit in the chilly air. Looking at the sun disappearing behind the thick trees surrounding the property, Laura knocked on the door and waited to be allowed in. Pulling her hunter green army jacket closer around her, she was greeted by Samuel Winchester.

"What took you so long? We were getting worried," he let the psychic walk into the equally drafty house.

"Sorry… ran into a little trouble," she said breathlessly, as he led her through the dark corridors.

"You're okay though, right?" the youngest Winchester asked as he opened the door into the room where they were clearly using to plan the break-in. In the center of the room was a fold up table, covered with papers, books, and a small lantern. Sitting on the edge of the table, with her back towards Laura and Sam, was a petite blonde woman playing with a knife, but when the door creaked open, Dean's distracted head popped out from behind the young woman's body.

"Took you long enough," he commented, before adding: "You got everything, I take it?"

"Take a look for yourself," Laura walked into the room and threw the heavy bag onto the table with a loud thud, causing the blonde woman to finally turn around and acknowledge the newcomer.

As Dean rummaged through the bag and Sam took a seat at the opposite side of the table, the pretty blonde with dark brown eyes asked: "Who's she?"

Taken off guard by the less than friendly greeting, the psychic glanced between Sam and Dean before introducing herself: "I'm Laura Norwood. You must be Jo," she offered her hand.

Jo Harvelle gave the brunette a hard look. Contrary to how her mother described her, this chick didn't look like much of a hunter and was probably just about her age, if not younger.

Slowly accepting the handshake, the blonde hopped off the table and continued to examine the young woman closely.

Feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, Laura glanced at Sam who merely shrugged his shoulders at the oddly cold reception she was receiving.

"What's this crap?" Dean spoke up, having missed the entire exchange.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Laura mumbled, grabbing the bag from his hands. "I spoke to Cas about an idea I had."

"And what's that?" Jo eyed the brunette closely as she began pulling out various tubes, jars, and bags filled with odd substances.

"I found an Enochian spell to link us to him," the psychic explained as she pulled out a piece of paper and chalk.

"Link us how?" Sam asked, thoroughly confused as the brunette walked into the corner of the room and began to draw symbols onto the wooden floor.

"Well, link me to him, but whatever" she corrected herself as she chalked a large circular Enochian sigil onto the floor.

"And what will that do?" Dean asked, as all three hunters watched Laura begin to place candles around edges of the thick, white lines she drew.

"Give him eyes and ears inside," the brunette tucked her hair behind her ear as she flicked on the lighter. "That way, if anything goes wrong, we got back up."

"He can't step foot onto the property," Jo reminded them all of that obvious fact.

"I know, but I made him agree to stick around at Bobby's since Ellen's gonna be there. Then if things go south, he's just gotta zap his ass back over here with your mom," Laura grinned proudly before continuing to pour the ingredients into the three circles she drew within the sigil.

Nodding their heads, the Winchester's agreed to her plan. Grinning a bit, Dean stood up and said in admiration: "You really think of everything, don't you?"

"Hang on," Jo began to argue, breaking up the bashful grins being exchanged in front of her. "How will he even be able to hear what's goin' on inside if you're the distraction?"

Folding her arms with a somewhat smug smirk, Jo raised her eyebrows.

"I guess she'll just have to tag along then," Dean continued to watch Laura closely as she pulled her amulet out from underneath her shirt.

"Then who's gonna get us inside and wait by the cars for a quick getaway?" the young Harvelle asked, looking between Dean and Sam with a slightly irritated tone.

Knowing full well that Jo would hate swapping roles with Laura, Sam responded tentatively: "You'd have to take her place."

"No way," the blonde protested, "You are not shovin' me into some skimpy dress to be the bait."

"Look, we agreed that was the best way to get inside unnoticed," Dean reminded her. "And now we got an even safer way of gettin' this done if Laura comes inside, so I think we should just roll with it."

Jo knew that the eldest Winchester was right, though it thoroughly irked her to be forced to play the damsel in distress and have such a rookie role of watching the cars. It wasn't fair. In fact, it was demeaning to how good of a hunter she was.

Glancing between the Winchesters and the clearly peeved blonde, Laura awkwardly continued with the spell. Putting the amulet in the center of the three bowls, she grabbed out her hunting knife and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she centered herself and began to chant the words.

"Grapha orh-nach, tal med keph," she slit her palm and placed her bloodied hand onto the amulet, causing the flames on the candles to grow sky-high. "Gierh ve-pa, ourh machis pal, fam droux veh!"

As the last words escaped her lips, the bowls began to smoke and the candles turned a brilliant shade of celeste blue before going out. Standing up, Laura wiped off her knife and stepped out of the circle.

"How do we know if it worked?" Dean asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"It worked," Laura smirked, walking past the three amazed hunters as she began to wrap her hand.

Noticing that there was nothing but a fairly large bloodstain in the center of the still smoldering bowls, Sam inquired: "Where's your necklace?"

"With Castiel. That's how we're linked," she stated simply, as the Winchesters exchanged looks.

"What? Why'd you do that?" Dean demanded, walking over to her. "You need that to keep yourself hidden, don't you?"

"I need if for a lot of things," Laura then began to pull out a few more items from the duffel.

Sensing the eldest Winchester's disapproving stares, Laura glanced up from what she was doing and responded nonchalantly: "Relax. I've got a hex bag I'll keep on me… no angels or demons will sense I'm coming, okay?"

Still none-too-happy with the idea that Laura was less protected than usual, Dean had no choice but to accept it.

"So we're workin' with a witch now?" Jo asked, plopping down in the seat across the table from the brunette.

Looking up at the blonde's judgmental stares, Laura clarified: "I'm _not_ a witch."

Playing with her knife again, the blonde looked up at the Winchester's for an explanation.

"She's a psychic," Sam said.

"Seems like the same thing to me," Jo muttered. "So when are we heading out? I'm gettin' bored."

"Depends… how long will it take you to change?" Dean grinned, fully aware that his response was going to piss her off further.

Glaring at the eldest Winchester, Jo Harvelle gruffly took the little black dress that Dean was holding out to her.

"Bite me," she spat grumpily as she skulked away into the other room to change.

As the door closed, Laura whispered to Sam, who was now sitting beside her and making the holy water: "She always this friendly?"

Sam chuckled a bit and shook his head: "She's just pissed she got put on the sidelines."

"I didn't mean to step on anyone's toes," Laura honestly stated, tying the hex bag closed.

"She knows… just give her some time," Sam tried to convince the brunette not to take it personally.

"Yeah, first time I met her I got punched in the face… you learn not to take it to heart," Dean leaned over the brunette and took the hex bag from her, examining it.

Looking up at him, Laura snatched it back and responded playfully: "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"

The eldest Winchester sat down beside the brunette: "You're a comedian, you know that?"

"Oh don't get all sensitive," she patted his knee in fake sympathy.

Dean's attempts not to grin soon failed, as a smirk soon spread across his face.

His warm, steady gaze on the brunette was soon broken, however, for Jo Harvelle had emerged from behind the door. Spinning around, she showed off the very short, backless black dress.

"What do you think?" she grinned, pinning her blonde, shoulder-length hair up into a sleek bun.

"You look perfect," Sam complimented her, knowing that she would definitely serve as good decoy in this outfit.

Dean, on the other hand, examined the lovely, petite hunter with wide eyes.

Stammering over his words, Jo slipped on her extremely high black heels and walked past him.

"Well I guess if I got him droolin' then we're good to go," the blonde touched up a bit of her make-up, and then threw a gun into her little black bag.

Looking between the Winchesters and Ellen's daughter, Laura couldn't deny how lovely Jo looked. The dress fit her perfectly and the psychic could see that the brothers found her extremely attractive. Still, however, she felt herself growing a bit irritated at the whole situation.

Throwing the weapons and supplies into her bag, the brunette got up from the table and headed towards the door.

"We goin' or what?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam glanced from Jo, to his gawking older brother, to the clearly annoyed psychic and tried to stifle his own small smile.

"Yeah," Dean cleared his throat and tore his eyes off of the young Harvelle, "Let's go."

* * *

The mansion was massive, surrounded by thick walls, and only had one entrance which was blocked by an extremely tall wrought iron gate; like Castiel had informed them, every inch of that place was covered in Enochian protection symbols. Needless to say, Crowley had the property locked down good and tight.

As Jo buzzed herself in at the intercom, the Winchesters and Laura were waiting, pressed against the shadowy wall.

Dean was busy staring after the half-dressed, clearly freezing blonde, while Laura was trying her hardest not to smack him upside his stupid head. He was such a dog…

"So there's definitely that Enochian stuff written all over the place?" Sam peered at the seemingly normal house.

"Mhm," Laura mumbled as the wind picked up some more.

Before anything else could be said, the screeching sounds of the gates opening broke through the quiet evening air, and all three companions drew their weapons, preparing to stealthily move onto the property behind Jo.

Still shrouded in shadow, all three of them made their way through the gate while Jo was distracting the two guards.

"Demons?" Dean whispered.

"Yup," the brunette verified, staring at their hideous faces.

"Okay, well let's have some fun," he wickedly smirked between his brother and the psychic.

The second the two demons lunged at the panicked Jo Harvelle, Dean tackled the closest one while Sam doubled around behind the second malevolent creature. Stabbing it clean through the neck, Sam yanked the bloody blade out as a brilliant light flickered from the deadly wound.

Dean, who had just received a hard punch across the face, shook off the blow and stretched his arm out to catch the weapon Sam tossed his way.

Striking the demon clean in the heart with a loud grunt, Dean twisted the blade and killed it. Pulling Ruby's knife out, he wiped the blade and tucked it back into his pants.

"Good job, Jo," Sam complimented the shivering blonde.

"Thanks," she chattered.

"Here… put some clothes on," Dean muttered, handing her his jacket.

Looking between her three companions, Laura was losing her patience: "Okay, let's get a move on, shall we?"

"Ugh, yeah," the eldest Winchester said.

"You're gonna be okay?" Sam called back to Jo as they started to make their way across the dark lawn.

"Yeah, just hurry your asses up," the blonde said, pulling the jacket tightly around herself.

With a curt nod, the youngest Winchester turned and followed Laura and his brother into the darkness.

Walking around the back of the mansion, they squatted underneath a large window, as Dean began to search for his wire cutters.

"Damn it," he growled. "I left 'em in my jacket."

Sam stared at his brother with an expression like 'you're an idiot,' but Laura merely rolled her eyes and pressed her hands on the electrical box.

Closing her eyes she concentrated, and then all of the lights in the house went out.

"The Hell was that?" Dean asked, thoroughly surprised and a bit relieved.

"What?" she innocently looked between the two impressed Winchesters. "I've been practicing."

Raising his eyebrows, Dean made a 'not bad' face as Sam began to pick the lock of the back door.

Once the familiar 'click' was heard, Sam, Dean, and Laura exchanged last looks before entering the mansion. Everything was pitch black, but from what they could make out, the entire house appeared vacant. After a few minutes of maneuvering their way around, the faint, flickering light of a fireplace could be seen from underneath a door. Positioning themselves on either side, Dean took a deep breath, and then proceeded to kick the door down.

Storming into the room, weapons drawn, the Winchesters and the brunette were met with a very impassive British man: "So the Hardy Boys finally managed to find me. Took long enough."

"Crowley, right?" Sam asked, holding his shotgun up as Dean drew Ruby's knife.

"Quick on the uptake, aren't you Sam?" the somewhat stout man with thinning, dark brown hair spoke mockingly.

Walking from around the large, ornate desk, the man adjusted his tie as his gaze moved from the Winchesters to the young woman standing slightly behind them.

"Ah, good, you've brought Nancy Drew," he moved closer and closer.

"Not so fast," Laura held her hand out threateningly.

Pausing, Crowley scratched at his stubble, as if deciding whether or not to take her seriously.

His deep brown, almost black eyes twinkled wickedly as he lifted his leg to take another step forward, but he soon found that he couldn't… some invisible force was holding him back.

"A little birdy told me you had been flexing those mental muscles of yours, but I must admit, even I'm a bit surprised by how strong you've gotten," he snapped his fingers, causing two, very large, very muscular henchmen to enter the room.

Before Sam and Dean could react, they were disarmed and pinned against the walls of the office.

Glaring at Crowley, Laura took a step forward and demanded he let them go.

"Not so fast, love," he spoke calmly, opening a wooden box on the desk and pulling out the Colt. "This is it, right? This is what it's all about?"

Laura's blue-green eyes widened a bit, as she quickly exchanged glances with the struggling Winchester brothers.

Crowley aimed the gun at Laura, and her breath hitched, waiting to feel the white-hot pain of being shot, but when the first shot rang out, she felt nothing.

Then, another shot was heard, and by the time the psychic realized what had happened, the two lower-level demons were on the floor, dead.

Tutting a bit, Crowley shook his head: "It's a shame," his saddened gaze rested on the Persian rug. "That carpet was priceless."

"What the Hell is this?" Dean barked, as he and Sam quickly picked up their weapons and took their positions on either side of the young woman.

"We need to talk… in private," the demon's eyes rolled black as the heavy doors slammed shut behind them.

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, Crowley slinked back around his desk and looked deeply into the fireplace.

"There's no reason why this thing wasn't buried miles into the Earth except for the fact that I wanted you to have it… you, or anybody else, for that matter, would have no clue about its existence if I hadn't told you."

"Told us?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously

"Rumors, innuendo… sent it all through the grapevine," the demon explained, turning back around to look at all three hunters.

"Why tell us anything?" the youngest Winchester pressed as his curiosity got the better of him.

Slowly raising the weapon and aiming it at Dean now, Crowley spoke with a certain amount of intimidating intensity: "I want you to take this gun and empty it into Lucifer's head."

"Sure… and we're supposed to believe that you _want_ the Devil dead…" Dean scoffed a bit, staring from the barrel of the gun back to Crowley.

Lowering the weapon, the demon sighed: "It's called survival… but I keep forgetting you two are, at best, functioning clods…"

"You're a… functioning… clod," Dean tried to give his rebuttal, but clearly fell short.

Shaking her head, in slight embarrassment for the eldest Winchester, Laura spoke up: "Lucifer's an angel."

"So?" Dean muttered, glancing quickly between the brunette and the demon.

"And he fell cause he wouldn't bow down to humans…" she continued. "He hates us… thinks we're all…"

"Filthy sacks of puss," Crowley offered.

Shooting him a look, Laura continued to explain: "So if he hates us, what do you think he's gonna think of twisted and warped human souls… aka demons?"

"Gold star for you, Buffy," the demon said sarcastically.

"But he created you," Sam pointed out.

"Yes, but only to have a loyal army at his disposal. To him, we're simply cannon fodder, and once he's done wiping out your kind… well, out goes the lights for mine," Crowley shrugged. "So how about you help me out, huh? I just want to go back to simpler, better times. I mean I'm in sales dammit! So what do you say? I give you this thing, and you kill the Devil?"

Holding out the gun, Crowley offered them the rare, powerful weapon as casually as if he were passing the salt at dinner.

Glancing amongst his partners, Sam hesitantly took the gun.

"Great," the youngest Winchester said.

"Great," the demon spoke merrily.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Lucifer is, would you?" Laura asked, still distrustful of the evil creature standing before them.

"Thursday, word has it, that he'll be in Carthage, Missouri."

"Good," Sam's eyes narrowed as he suddenly raised the barrel between Crowley's eyes and pulled the trigger.

When no bullet left the gun, however, Sam blinked a few times in surprise, and then looked at the demon a bit nervously. Crowley, on the other hand, did not seem remotely fazed at all.

"Ah, yes. I suppose you'll need more ammunition," he pulled a small bag of bullets from the box where he had kept the Colt.

Handing it over to Dean, the eldest Winchester asked: "Excuse me for askin', but aren't you kinda signin' your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the Devil and lose?"

"One, he's going to wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you three leave here, I'm taking an extended vacation to all points nowhere, and three," he paused, suddenly erupting in rage. "How about you don't screw this up, okay? Morons!"

And with that, the demon vanished, leaving Laura and the Winchesters staring at one another with stunned expressions. They had just gotten the Colt back… and extra bullets… with little to no effort. Nothing ever had gone that smoothly for them, and although it gave them hope that, maybe, they were meant to stop the apocalypse, part of them knew that nothing was ever that simple.


End file.
